The Seasonette
by DaniNatureGirl391
Summary: They say that behind every great man is a great woman. Meet the woman behind not just one great man, but four. It's difficult enough, just being related to a Season. Being in-love with one is even harder.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: My previous account was deleted without my knowledge, so most of my other stories disappeared. As my previous readers already know, my old USB drive broke, which meant I had to retype this story from Ch.8 onwards. However, losing my other account meant that Ch.1-7 couldn't be recovered. I will be retyping them from memory. I think this'll be a good thing in the long run, though. It means I can embellish them a bit more, adding some new dialogue. I appreciate any patience you can give me. Thanks.**_

Tommy paced back-and-forth across the hotel room, mumbling under his breath with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. Eventually, his roommate made a noise of frustration and looked up from the magazine he'd been reading.

Nick said, "Would ya sit down? That's really buggin' me, man."

"Oh, yeah? Is it buggin' you? Well, here's a newsflash. I don't give a- _hic_."

The guitarist definitely had a few too many in him. Nick shook his head, trying to refocus his attention on his reading. His hoped for that were proved in vain, because Tommy continued to pace. Clearly, it wasn't going to stop, until its cause was worked out and dealt with. Folding the page he'd been on, he put the magazine aside and cleared his throat.

Then, he said, "A'right. I'll bite. What's goin' on?"

"Nothin'."

"That's a load, and you _know_ it."

Tommy sighed, breaking their eye-contact. Something big had been weighing on him for the past couple of days. He knew he couldn't keep it hidden forever. His friend was right.

He turned fully around and said, "A'right. Here it is. I got a letta' last week from one of my aunts. It was about my dad."

"What more is there to know about him? He's been gone for almost seventeen years."

"In related news, the sun rose dis mornin', and the sky is blue. Anyway, she said he'd been engaged to some broad, shortly before he died. Without tellin' me or my brotha'!"

"Wow."

"Uh-huh. And dat ain't all. Apparently, dis woman got pregnant. Turns out, I got a little sista'."

Nick didn't know what to say. This was such an ironic situation, given Tommy's history with women. The urge to laugh was overwhelming, but thankfully brief. The guitarist then strode over to his duffle bag, where it sat on his borrowed bag.

"I need a cig."

He kept trying to light it, but couldn't because of his slightly-shaky hands. Nick decided to help him out, taking his own lighter from his pocket.

"Thanks, man."

"No sweat."

Tommy resumed pacing, the nicotine fumes failing to soothe his frayed nerves. Nick didn't know what to say. He was torn between curiosity, and his own growing anxiety.

He settled for asking the most basic of questions: "So, what's her name?"

"Theresa. Look, what the hell am I gonna do, Nicky? What am I gonna do?!"

"Well, you could calm down, for a start."

Tommy gave him the finger.

He made a "tsk" noise and said, "Come on, man. I'm serious. You gotta be stronger than this. She's gonna need ya."

"Hey, I know dat, a'right? I've arranged for her to meet us here, tomorrow mornin'."

"That soon?"

"Betta' now, than lata'."

"How are we gonna explain this to Frankie and Bob?"

"I'll drop the bomb at breakfast. Big news is betta' taken on a full stomach."

The next morning was pretty tense. After eating, the guys had all taken their glasses of orange juice into the hotel's lobby.

As he sipped his, Crewe said, "That's some story, baby."

Tommy shot back, "No kiddin', Sherlock."

"Lighten up, Tomooch. Ya think she's not feelin' just as scared as you are?"

"Who says I'm scared?"

Frankie rolled his eyes at his friend's reply. He was the voice of reason a lot of the time. Whether the guitarist wanted to listen or not was his own choice.

He continued, "Look, all I'm sayin' is that she's probably worried about how we'll react to her. Just stay calm. Let her know she can be safe with us."

Us. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched up. He knew he couldn't be a part of his sister's life, without her also being part of his. His bandmates were included in that. They were a package deal.

Then, Bob chimed in: "So, what was her name again?"

"Theresa. Theresa Elizabeth Korso."

"What does she look like?"

"My aunt said she's 'round 5'8, fair skin, light green eyes, and with dark hair like mine."

"Well, that narrows things down."

Tommy shot him a look.

To that, he responded, "Seriously. There's got to be at least three other girls in this room, matching that description. How are you going to know which one is her?"

"I'll know. A photo came with the letta'. I've been keepin' it in my wallet."

Crewe walked over and asked if he could see the picture. The girl in it, and the rottweiler she was hugging, stared directly at the camera. The dog's "smile" seemed to match hers. He didn't know it, but the object of his curiosity was just outside the hotel's front door. A teenager placed her shaking hand on the handle. Theresa wondered if her brother would like her. She hoped he'd be impressed with her life and her ambitions. An urge to roll her eyes suddenly went through her. Her accomplishments were nothing against his. How does one compete with being the guitarist for the latest hit rock band? She'd seen his group on American Bandstand recently, which only served to make her more nervous about this meeting. She'd been sick with a cold at the time, and the bouncy nature of "Sherry" lifted her spirits. She remembered the proud tears, prickling at the corners of her eyes. She felt them now, too, but she quickly wiped them away. It wouldn't do for Tommy to see her like this. With a final silent prayer, she walked into the hotel.

Crewe heard a soft ding, which signaled that a new patron had just walked in. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted the very person they'd all been most excited to meet. She looked as sweet and all-American as apple pie in her yellow t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. There was very little makeup, from what he could tell. Her hair was down, but pinned back, and a yin-yang pendant hung around her neck.

He lightly tapped Tommy's shoulder to get his attention and whispered, "Hey...look."

The guitarist did just that, turning completely around. He was surprised at the knot he felt in his stomach. He hadn't been responsible for another person in years, not since he and his brother were kids. How was he going to handle it this time?

From behind him, Bob asked, "Is it her?"

Slightly breathless, he replied, "Yeah...it's her."

She offered a small, tentative smile at him, as she began walking forward. This was it. The twelve feet between them seemed to stretch on forever. She was positive he could hear the pounding of her heart. The man he stood beside wore a sky-blue polo shirt, khaki dress pants, and dark brown shoes. When she finally reached them, she was almost too nervous to meet their eyes directly.

Clearing his throat, Tommy said, "It's nice to finally meet ya, sweetheart."

"Yeah. Um...you, too. I've been looking forward to this for a while."

Deciding to take the safe route, she stuck out her left hand. She was surprised, however, when he pushed it down and shook his head.

"Unh-unh. Dis ain't no business deal. Come here."

He pulled her into a hug. She froze for less than half a second, before wrapping her arms around him. She was too distracted to look over his shoulder and see the rest of the guys. The smell of his cologne was nearly overpowering, but she didn't mind. She hoped he wouldn't care, that her silent tears were soaking into his leather jacket. He seemed to sense what she was feeling.

Rubbing soothing circles into her upper back, he whispered, "It's a'right. It's a'right."

When he felt she'd calmed down enough, he took a couple of steps to the side, and he proceeded to introduce her to everyone. The man in the polo shirt went first, reaching for her hand.

"Charmed to make your acquaintance, _mon cherie_ ", and he kissed her knuckles before finishing, "Call me Crewe."

She smiled at the wink he made, as he pulled away. Nick was next. As he shook her hand, the first word that came to her mind to describe him was "teeth". She admired his confidence, how he didn't seem to care about his prominent overbite. He flopped backwards onto a nearby sofa, reaching for a nearly-empty glass of orange juice and giving her a short, silent toast. Bob, the tallest in the group, seemed even more shy than her. He gave a soft, awkward chuckle as he stood up, hooking his left thumb into his pants pocket. His almond-shaped eyes reminded her of Bambi. His personality, though, reminded her of a beagle puppy: all sweetness and eagerness to please. She was giggling over a joke he made, when another hand crossed in front of her face.

The slight jingling of a chain was followed by a new voice: "Hiya. I'm Frankie Valli."

Their eyes met. In that instant, Theresa's world stopped. An old soul radiated out from behind his boyish features. His eyes were a rich sable, with scattered flecks of a still-lighter shade of brown. They were like chocolate and caramel swirled together. His bottom lip was slightly bigger than his top one, giving him a rosebud-like pout. And his hair-she could see the tiny curls, plastered down by gel along his hairline. An electric sizzle went down her spine, strange tingles racing along her nerves. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't know it, but she wasn't the only one feeling this way. For the first time since he'd met his wife, Mary, Frankie felt his heart skip a beat. He loved the speckles of yellow and brown in her pale jade eyes, as well as the strawberries-and-cream tone of her skin. He wondered if her hair was as silky as it looked. His eyes trailed along the black cord of her necklace, down to where the yin-yang charm sat between her breasts. He snapped himself out of the daze, when his hand finally closed around hers. He forced himself to remake eye-contact. This girl was gentleness and innocence, personified. What the heck was she doing with them? All this happened in a matter of seconds.

Clearing his throat, he stood up and asked, "So, uh...you want a drink or somethin'?"

Theresa noted that Frankie was roughly an inch-and-a-half shorter than her, not that it mattered. Her smile grew the tiniest bit at the sound of his windchime-like voice. She felt like she'd heard it many years ago, but she couldn't peg why or where. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, shyly glancing at the ground.

She told him, "Sure. A root-beer sounds nice."

"You got it."

He motioned over a lady from room-service and ordered the drink. After the woman left, Theresa took her wallet from her back pocket.

"Let me give you the money for that."

He waved her off, saying, "Nah. Don't worry about it. My treat."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"And speakin' of treats", Tommy said from behind her, "-ya gotta feel dis couch. It don't rub a person the wrong way."

She looked over her shoulder, meeting her brother's eyes. He patted a spot beside him. She sighed over how right he was about the cushions. She felt comfortable enough, both inside and out, to lean back as he put his arm around her. She'd only been around these guys a couple of minutes, and she already couldn't imagine her life without them. While she was drinking her soda, she explained some things about her life, including the fact that most of her friends called her Rees. She didn't know that as she chatted away, Frankie was still observing her. He loved the sound of her laugh, unable to surpress the smile it provoked from him. But inside, he was scared out of his mind. He could tell that, judging by the kiss Tommy placed on Theresa's temple, the guitarist would turn anyone who hurt his sister into a walking bruise. Best to play it cool. As he sat back down, he listened as Bob asked where the girl was from.

He said, "You've got an accent, but I can tell you're not a Jersey girl."

She giggled and replied, "I'm from Massachusetts, actually."

"Ah, but you ain't a Boston girl, eitha'", Tommy said, "-'cos ya don' say 'yaaad' and 'caaa' and a half-dozen otha' things."

"Yeah. I'm from Salem."

Then, Crewe chimed in: "Ooh. Does that mean you're a little witchy?"

"I can be", she replied with a wink.

A laugh was followed by, "I _like_ her. She's _feisty_."

"Of course, she is. She's _my_ sista', ain't she", Tommy asked, as he placed another kiss to her temple.

The next several hours were the best of Theresa's life. She couldn't believe how quickly and easily all the guys had accepted her into their circle. It was everything she'd been missing, since her mother died. She didn't want to talk about that yet, though. This was a happy day. Around sunset, Nick surprised her by announcing they were taking her out to dinner, to what he described as "a great Italian restaurant nearby". When they got there, she ordered chicken marsala.

Frankie told her, "My mom's pretty good at makin' that. She says it's one of her top five favorite meals."

"Nice. What's her name, by the way? I should've asked by now."

"Renee. My pop's Anthony."

"Cool."

When the wine came around, Theresa was a bit shocked when Tommy offered her a sip from his glass. From the other side, of course. She couldn't see her facial expression, but it was apparently enough to make him chuckle.

He told her, "Relax, a'right? I know you ain't legal yet. I just didn't want ya to totally miss out. Red wine's good for the heart and blood. And besides, kids younga' than you in Italy drink it with dinna' every night."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to ya?"

Nick choked on his own wine as he stifled a laugh, which earned him a light smack on his arm from across the table. When Theresa's own drink arrived, a cherry Coke, the guys all raised their glasses.

Crewe said, "A toast to our seasonette."

Confused, Theresa asked, "Excuse me?"

"He's right", Tommy told her, "You're one of us now."

She looked to Nick, who smirked and said, "Buckle up, kiddo. It's gonna be a wild ride."

She seemed to get thoughtful for a moment. Then, she smiled as she clinked her glass against theirs.

She told them, "You know what? I wouldn't have it any other way."

 ** _AN: My mom was born in 1957. She was just becoming aware of the world around her (about 5yrs old), right as these guys got famous. That's also the same age she introduced ME to their music. I have early memories of her, singing "Sherry" & "Oh, What A Night" as she scrubbed my back in the tub. So, yeah, Frankie & co. have kind of always been part of the family. (giggle) You can imagine how happy we both were, when the film version came out. It's got a firm place in my "Whenever I feel down, I watch this" list of movies. I did turn to writing that world during a difficult time last year: my mom's hospital stay for recovery from quadruple-bypass surgery. I can't even begin to describe how much relaxation it gave me. Anyway...Chapter 2 will feature Theresa's seventeenth birthday. We'll get more of a hint of her & Frankie's secret feelings towards each other. I look forward to your opinions._**


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: As promised, it's Theresa's birthday. I recently came across a couple of magazine articles from the movie's press tour, in which the actors & the real Frankie gave their insights. Reading them helped me a lot w/ inspiration. And again, part of me is happy about the issue w/ my previous account. It's enabled me to add more depth to the chapters, as I re-type them.**_

"Well, he-llo, Miss Knockout!"

Theresa giggled, doing a little show-offy twirl. The reason for Crewe's comment was her choice of bathing suit: white with red straps and tiny cherries all over it. Today was June fourteenth. It was her seventeenth birthday, and it also marked a full week since she'd first met her brother and the guys. She thought it was really sweet, how they were throwing her a small pool party at the producer's apartment building. Well, maybe, "palace" was a more apt description. Tommy and Nick were already outside, and could see her, staring down through the window. They both looked up at her from their spots in the water, smiling mischievously.

The former cupped his hands around his mouth and sang loudly, "Reesi! Reesi, baby!"

The latter added, "Why don't you come out?"

She giggled, holding up a finger and mouthing the words "One minute." Crewe, who'd been watching the whole thing, chuckled under his breath in amusement as he put some beers in a cooler.

He said, "I've known these guys for longer than you have, sweetie, and I _still_ haven't figured them out."

"Maybe, some things aren't meant to be figured out."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Once permission to enter was given, a familiar face stepped inside. Bob, whose arms were weighed down by the bags of party supplies, smiled broadly when he saw Theresa.

"Hey, Rees. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks so much, especially for the party. I know I said it before, but you really didn't-"

"We _wanted_ to. You heading down to the pool?"

"Yeah, once I get my towl and sunglasses, and put on some extra sunblock."

"Alright. You look pretty, by the way."

She thanked him again, before gathering her needed items and heading downstairs to the pool. Tommy smiled when he saw his sister.

He smacked the water and said, "So nice of ya to finally grace us with your presence, milady!"

She just smiled and shook her head. It was quiet for a minute, until her brother splashed her as she spread her towel over a beach chair.

"Geez! What was _that_ for?!"

He didn't respond, except for laughing at her brief look of anger.

Then, Nick asked, "Enjoyin' your special day so far?"

"Totally", she replied as she sat down, "I couldn't ask for more."

Tommy said, "I betcha can't wait to tear into the presents we got ya."

"I have patience."

"Sure, ya do."

"Hey, not everyone on the planet is exactly like you, you know."

"And I pity 'em for it."

She giggled and made a chuffing sound, before sitting down ans applying the lotion. She'd noted the tiny smile Nick made, when her brother mentioned presents. The reason for that was because his gift had arrived earlier in the day: a dozen fire-and-ice roses. The name came from how each blossom started out white, and slowly turned a deep red at the edges of the petals. They were meant to symbolize someone innocent, but who still had a passionate spirit. Theresa had just put on her sunglasses, and she was leaning against the back of the chair, when Bob and Crewe joined them by the pool.

Bob asked, "Hey, where's Frankie? He should've been here by now."

Tommy replied, "I told ya, he's gettin' the pizzas. Simma' down."

Thank goodness, he didn't notice how Theresa's breath hitched at his mention of the lead singer. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Her heart fluttered whenever she thought of his "Aw, shucks" smile. He was such a warm, sweet, funny person. He'd give somebody the shirt off his back if he could, and find a way to get them a new shirt if he couldn't. She admired that a great deal, plus the "Never say die" attitude she, herself, struggled to keep at times. She flashed back to that first handshake, the sense of safety she got as his hand gently closed around hers. She wondered if he, too, felt that static spark against his palm. Her own palm twinged at the recall, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She covered her emotions by forcing a cough and opening the glass bottle of Dr. Pepper, which Crewe had placed next to her seat.

She'd barely put the bottle to her lips, when her brother suddenly called out, "Speak of the devil!"

"Hey, can it, a'right? Traffic was _brutal_."

There was a momentary struggle not to choke on the bit of soda in her mouth, before she stood up and turned around. She watched Frankie enter the pool area, sunglasses hiding his eyes, and carrying three pizza boxes on his right shoulder. Nobody noticed how the singer nearly dropped those boxes, when he saw Theresa. She looked, in a word, stunning. A couple strands of her hair danced in the slight breeze. Her sunglasses looked like something a movie star would wear. And that bathing suit...a corner-of-the-eye glimpse of balloons yanked him back to Earth. He smiled and put the boxes down on a nearby table, beckoning her over and pulling her into a hug.

"How's the birthday girl doin', huh?"

"I am _fantastic_."

She badly wanted to add the words "now that you're here" to the end of that sentence, but she was too scared. She gave one last squeeze, before pulling away from his cocoon-like embrace. Her smile remained, as she watched Tommy climb out of the pool.

He walked over and asked, "So, what do we got here, Frankie?"

"Well, ya didn't give specifics on the phone, so I had to use my best judgement. The bottom one's pepperoni, the middle one's chopped meat, and the top one's Hawaiian style."

"Sounds good to me."

Nick chimed in from the background: "With that cast-iron stomach, _everythin'_ sounds good to you."

Tommy smiled, as he gave his friend the finger. He went to open the boxes, only to have his hand slapped away by his sister.

"What's with _you_?"

"It's not time yet. Wasn't I just talking to you about patience?"

"She's got ya there, man", Frankie said through slight laughter.

"Shut up."

Theresa chided, "Be nice."

She then returned her attention to the singer, shrugging her shoulders and apologizing for Tommy's behavior. Unfortunately for Frankie, or fortunately as a dark voice in the back of his mind whispered, that movement caused a brief, slight puffing of her chest. He instantly felt his mouth go dry, and he took a couple quick steps backwards. She asked him where he was going.

He told her, "I, uh...I have to go get my trunks. I'll be right back. I promise."

"Okay."

Once he was back inside, and away from anyone else who might see him, Frankie released the breath he'd been holding. Clamping his eyes shut, he banged his head backwards against the wall.

The same mantra repeated over and over in his mind: "She's Tommy's sister."

Slowly, the pain radiated around to his forehead and began to block out other feelings. Messaging the space between his eyes, he mentally prayed they stayed blocked. He just had to pretend she was his sister, too. He could do that. Pretending was part of his job as an entertainer, after all. When he got back outside a bit later, Theresa was sitting on the ground with her legs in the pool. She and Nick, who was leaning on the wall next to her, were in a deep conversation. Tommy was a few feet away, sunglasses on and arms crossed behind his head, as he soaked up the sun's rays. He shifted position, at hearing his friend's approaching footsteps.

From the side of his mouth, he said, "Took ya long enough."

"Shut up."

He smirked and adjusted his sunglasses. Just over twenty minutes later, it was time to hand out the presents. Bob, knowing she shared his love of books, gave Theresa a copy of _"The Hound of the Baskervilles "_.

He said, "It's pretty scary at times, but you told me you liked a lot of the 'who dun it?' types of stories."

"Yeah, I do. Thanks a lot."

Crewe's gift was next. Theresa's eyes widened slightly, when she took off the wrapping and saw the famous Tiffany's logo. Inside was a small silver music box.

"It's a little... _gorgeous_."

He gave a soft chuckle and said, "It plays 'Moon River'. A classy song for a classy girl."

"Aw..."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek in thanks. Tommy was third to hand over his gift. It was jewelry, specifically a pair of earrings. Clear diamonds were arranged in the shape of lillies, with yellow diamonds forming the anthers.

"Wow", she said, "These are- _wait_."

A question she hated, but one that still had to be asked nonetheless, suddenly crossed her mind. She turned to her right and made direct eye-contact with Tommy.

She said, "Please, tell me these didn't" and she made air-quotes, "fall off a truck."

He flashed a smile and replied, "Nah. I picked 'em out, right afta' RCA Victor sent us the advance for our next song."

"Cool. When's that happening, by the way?"

He gestured at Bob, saying, "Ask the genuis."

"Hey, I'm doing the best I can. I'm just having trouble, coming up with a title to inspire me."

"Don't worry about it, Bobby", Theresa said, "Let the ideas come naturally."

He smiled, but he didn't get the chance to respond further. The reason for that happened, when Tommy looked over his shoulder and asked Frankie where his gift was.

The singer told him, "Mine won't be comin' for another two weeks. I hope that's okay."

When Theresa asked why, he went over to the table and opened his duffle bag. He took out an envelope, handing it to her with a sneaky grin on his face. Inside the envelope was an adoption certificate, along with a photograph of a white puppy. Her jaw fell slightly open.

"Wha-how? When did you...? What breed is this?"

"Finally, a full sentence."

He chuckled at the brief, annoyed look on her face. He patted her shoulder as he sat on the edge of the pool.

He continued, "It's a Great Pyrenees. Ya said you've been wantin' one for years."

"Well...yeah, but-"

"No 'buts', doll."

Her stomach flipped, just as it did every other time he called her that.

She listened as he said, "I got a connect, who's a breeder of large dogs. This pup's a boy. I figured he could protect ya, whenever we're not around."

Theresa didn't know what to say. A bit of awkwardness set in, which Tommy ended up beng the one to break.

He clapped his hands and said, "A'right. A'right. Enough sappy. Let's get to the chow."

She must've been hungry, because her plate was loaded down with three slices of the Hawaiian-style pizza. She was smiling mid-chew, as Bob took a seat on the chair beside hers.

"Look like you've got something on your mind, Bobby."

"Nothing big. I was just wondering, how you convinced your mother to allow you to hang out with us like this. She must trust you a lot."

Theresa let out a breath, her eyes flicking down at the ground. The others noticed this. They'd all been wondering why, over the past week, she'd never once brought up her mother. Why would the keyboardist's comment provoke such a reaction from her?

Tommy asked, "What's goin' on there, Rees?"

"I, uh...I'm not really sure what my mom's feelings toward all this would be. She died a month-and-a-half ago."

"Oh, God...I'm so sorry, doll."

She gave Frankie a tiny, appreciative smile.

Then, Nick asked, "If you don't mind my askin', what exactly killed her?"

"Cancer. The doctor said she had leukemia. She was so tough about it. She tried to hide her symptoms from me."

"Sounds like somethin' _my_ mom would do."

"Yeah. She thought I never noticed how she kept rubbing her joints, or how she brushed her teeth, like, five times a day. The medicine they gave made her sick."

That last sentence was meant in regards to the confused look on Tommy's face.

Bob then asked, "But then, don't you have some other guardian, who gave you permission to be here?"

She told him, "You'd think so, but I don't."

"Why not?"

"Originally, one of my cousins and his wife were supposed to take me. But then, his mother-in-law broke her hip, and she hand to move in with them temporarily to recover. They had enough stress on their minds, and I didn't want to be another one. So, I took matters into my own hands."

Nick asked her what she meant.

She replied, "I drove down to the courthouse and got this new thing called emancipation. I had to fit certain rules, in order to receive it."

"Like what", Frankie asked.

"I needed a valid driver's license. Check. I needed to be able to cook from scratch. Check. I needed to have a decent job. Again, check-it's babysitting, by the way. I found that through a program in my high-school's career center."

"Hey, that's how I got my job at the barbershop, back in the day. I was about your age."

For some reason, knowing that about him warmed Theresa's heart. Then, he asked her what the last rule was.

She said, "I had to know how to balance a checkbook. I was still kind of wobbly with that one, but I knew enough to fit the requirment. Mom was already teaching me the basics, a couple of months before she passed. I think she...I think she was preparing for the inevitable."

Nobody would ever know it, but Tommy was filled with extreme regret in that moment. He'd referred to his almost-stepmother as "some broad". Now that he was getting to know her through her daughter, he wished she'd lived at least a few weeks longer. He would've really liked to have met her. Clearing his throat, he looked over at where Crewe was standing next to the portable radio.

He said, "Could ya turn dat up? It sounds good."

"Of course, it's good, baby. It's Elvis."

Seconds later, the small speakers were blasting "Jailhouse Rock". Luckily, Theresa didn't seem to mind the interruption. In fact, she appeared to welcome it. She'd never laughed so hard in her life, as Nick and Tommy lifted and spun her around while the song played. Bob had gone back inside for a few minutes, because he was helping Crewe carry out the dessert. And Frankie...he didn't trust himself enough to touch the birthday girl, without Tommy seeing the look on his face and getting suspicious. He needed to calm down. He couldn't imagine what she must be going through, with the loss of her mother being so fresh. The idea made him want to drive back to his childhood house, and hug his own mom. He felt honored to be the light in her current darkness, and he wondered if the other guys felt the same. A few minutes later, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the building's side door. Bob and Crewe emerged with big smiles on their faces, the former holding bags of paper plates and plastic forks, and the latter holding a white box.

To get everyone else's attention, Bob called out, "We come bearing gifts!"

Theresa immediately stopped dancing and turned around, rushing over to help the keyboardist.

"No worries, Rees. I got this."

"You sure? It looks like a lot."

"How about the looks of _this_ ", Crewe asked from behind them.

She watched him place the box on the table, flip open the lid, and turn the box around.

"Behold...ze cake!"

Theresa's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. There was white frosting, with pink sugar seashells all around the sides. She was told that the inside was white, too, with lemon-flavored jelly between the layers. It was a summer cake for a summer girl. Crewe was chuckling softly, as he lit the "1" and "7" candles. She barely registered them, singing to her, though she did come back to herself when Frankie hit a really high note. They briefly locked eyes across the cake, and the corner of Theresa's mouth twitched up.

Tommy put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Ya gonna make a wish, or what?"

She glanced around at the expectant looks on everyone's faces, taking a short, deep breath as a sentimental look crossed her features.

She said, "I don't think I need to. Not this time."

Tommy chuckled under his breath and kissed her temple, holding her hair back as she blew out the candles. She gave a return kiss to his cheek, before cutting herself the first piece. She took a seat next to Bob, after he'd cut a piece of his own.

She asked him, "So, back to something from earlier. Why do you think you're having trouble with the next song?"

"I don't know. I just...I guess I've been so caught up in the rush of 'Sherry', and...I don't know", he chuckled softly before finishing, "I really don't know."

"I do. You're pushing yourself too hard. It's like the old saying, 'A Watched Pot Never Boils'."

"Whoever invented that saying wasn't in the music business."

She huffed, patting his back twice and saying, "Just relax. You'll be fine."

It took roughly half an hour to finish everything up. Frankie noticed how Theresa was struggling, trying to fold the pizza boxes and tie them together. That was supposed to make it easier to throw them away. Stifling a laugh, he walked over and asked if she needed help. Though it was a question, they both knew he'd do it regardless.

"Here...I'll hold 'em together, and you tie the chord."

"Thanks."

"It's no trouble, Rees. What do ya take me for?"

He smiled, when that made her giggle. Still, he ignored the knot in his stomach that formed, as he watched a faint blush come to her cheeks. Then, out of nowhere, a low rumble of thunder poured across the sky. Tiny raindrops started falling.

"I think we should get inside now, doll."

"You think?"

Both were laughing, as they jogged back into the building. Theresa couldn't help thinking of what Nick had told her a week ago, back at the restaurant. If this day was any indication of how the "wild ride" was going to be in the future, she con't be more excited. Bring it on.

 ** _AN: I hope you liked my little dip into Theresa's backstory, as well as the under-the-surface sparks between her & Frankie. I'm trying my best to get all the guys' personalities right. The next chapter will feature 3 of my favorite scenes from the movie back-to-back. I look forward to your input._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: I hope you like the embellishments I put on these famous scenes. To help get me in the right mood for this chapter's second half, I checked out lists of Christmas songs that were popular in the 60s.**_

The following week felt like a whirlwind to Theresa. It'd been a long time, since she'd had this much fun. Most of the laughs came from her life-of-the-party big brother. On this particular day, they were driving to Crewe's apartment with some take-out lunch in the back seat. Judging by the frustrated look on his face, she knew Tommy must've been thinking about Bob's continuing writer's block. She decided against asking him about it. She held one food bag, when they reached the appropriate door. He held the other, as he put his spare key in the lock. His frustration increased, as he took in the state of their keyboardist and producer's immediate area: the men sitting backwards on chairs, with crumpled wads of paper all over the floor. Frankie and Nick weren't there, due to prior family commitments.

Tommy asked, "You guys got somethin' yet?"

Crewe sighed and responded, "Not yet. Not yet."

"What the hell, man? It's been three weeks. The company's goin' nuts."

"I know", Bob said through a groan.

As the siblings walked over and took seats beside them, he noticed they were carrying something.

He asked, "What's that?"

"It's Chinese. Ya gotta eat to work."

The guitarist then instructed Crewe's "friend" to get forks.

Through sips nd nibbles of her wonton soup, Theresa mumbled, "You could be a little more _polite_ , you know."

Her brother simply gave her a quick side-glare. She then asked what movie they'd been watching.

Crewe told her, "It's 'Ace In The Hole'. Kirk Douglas and Jan Sterling. God, I _love_ Jan Sterling."

Tommy sounded annoyed as he asked, "Hey, what are you guys doin', huh? Workin', or watchin' the tube?"

He didn't say anything when he was shushed, but the expression on his face told that he was slightly miffed. Theresa stifled a giggle, refocusing her attention to the television screen. Jan walked closer to Kirk, a wide, hopeful smile on her face. The man tried to warn her off, but she couldn't take the hint.

Her voice came out in a playful tone: "Make me."

To Theresa's right, Crewe mumbled, "Oh, he will."

She didn't get the chance to ask what he meant, because Kirk suddenly did something that surprised her. He gave Jan a slap on each cheek, which instantly turned the hope in her eyes to shock. Crewe and Bob both gave wordless shouts, while Tommy burst out laughing and clapped his hands twice.

He reached over and tapped the producer's arm, saying, "Watch. I betchoo she cries."

"No. Big girls don't cry."

An odd chill flooded through the seventeen-year-old's body. She wasn't sure why. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who felt that. Stretching her neck a bit, she saw how Bob turned and looked at the producer. If this had been a cartoon, a lightbulb would've appeared over his head. For the second time in ten minutes, Theresa had to force back a laugh. She was glad for whatever this little spark of inspiration would produce. This was both for public, who'd soon be listening to it on the radio, and for the weight now off her friend's shoulders. A couple of hours went by. By then, Tommy was passed out on a nearby couch, and Crewe was taking a phone call in the kitchen. Theresa was, in a word, bored. She hadn't thought to bring a book along, so she really didn't have anything to do. That was until she spotted Bob at the piano, randomly jotting down what she assumed were lyrics on a piece of paper. She walked over and sat down beside him.

"Hey."

Instantly, his head turned in her direction, as he snapped back to Earth.

"Hey, Rees. I'm, uh...ha-ha...I'm sorry for not paying attention."

"It's no trouble. So, what are you working on?"

"Just a little something."

"Well, show me."

There was a brief flush in his cheeks, which Theresa found endearing. She liked how unjaded he was, despite being in the professional music industry for several years more than his bandmates.

Softly, he told her, "Before he went to take that call, Crewe hummed a piece of a melody for me to work with."

She giggled and made a "Cough it up" gesture, which earned a smile in return. Bob lifted his hands to the keys and began playing. The tune that poured out was bouncy and fun. It was easy to picture people, dancing to it. And sure enough, when she glanced at the top of the paper he'd been working on, the words "Big Girls Don't Cry" were written there. She started playing the lower notes on the piano, adding some more depth to the song.

She said, "This is going to be _amazing_ with Frankie's falsetto."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I mean it. You've got to stop, selling yourself short, dude."

"I'll do that, when you do the same."

When she asked what he meant, he asked her, "Why didn't you tell us you could play?"

He gestured at the piano to make his point. Feeling a brief surge of nervousness, she began twirling a lock of hair around her left index finger.

She said, "I didn't think it was that big of a deal."

Crewe walked out of the kitchen in that moment, which put an end to Bob and Theresa's conversation. She immediately stood up and went over to him, pouring them each a glass of lemonade from the pitcher on a nearby table.

"Thanks. So, what were you up to, baby?"

Bob answered for her: "We're working on the new song."

"Sweet."

Sweet, indeed. That "new song" tore up in the radiowaves in the months that followed. It was at the crest of this wave that Theresa finally got something she'd been asking about from the beginning: a chance to see her brother's group in action. This concert was special, because it was the first time they'd be perfoming "Big Girls" before an actual audience. The seventeen-year-old was beyond excited, sporting a proud, borderline-idiotic grin as she stood in the wings and watched the show. She was barely peeking out from behind the curtain, observing the fans' reactions. It was funny, how they tried to imitate Frankie's voice. Some of them looked like they had gum, stuck in the back of their mouths. as they parroted back the "Cry-aye-aye" bit. And speaking of the man, Theresa was amazed that he didn't damage his knees, each time he landed on the stage after a spin. Luckily, whatever suffering he may or may not have endured was over, because this was the last song of the concert. This would become the group's trademark for a little while, sharing their newest hits near the final bow.

Ironically, just as that notion crossed her mind, the guys were taking said bow. They waved at the crowd, as they turned on their heels. Theresa barely had time to get out of the way, before they came barreling into the backstage area. They were all laughing and shouting, and so was she. Nick yanked her up into a hug, her feet leaving the floor as he spun her around. Tommy produced a bottle of champagne from beneath a pre-delivered snack cart, and he used his pocketknife to yank out the cork. Light gold-colored liquid shot everywhere. It even got into Theresa's hair, making it look like she'd just gotten out of the shower, but she didn't mind. Frankie's dimples were fully out, his smile as bright as the lights of Atlantic City. Her heart fluttered for the two seconds their eyes made contact. Meanwhile, Bob was leading Crewe inside through the concert hall's back door. The producer smiled, when he saw what was shaping up to be one heck of a party. He grabbed a camera that'd been sitting unattended, and he captured that moment for eternity.

Six months later, Theresa was treated to yet another group milestone. She got to join them in the recording studio for the first time. She was leaning against a wall in the mixing room, a fruit smoothie in her hand. The guys, too, had just finished their lunchbreak, and they were setting up to do another song. Tommy seemed to be a tad frustrated, though, which he voiced when Bob entered the studio proper.

"It's just...I don' get it."

"What don't you get, Tommy?"

"The title 'Walk Like A Man'?"

"Yeah?"

"As opposed to what? A woman?"

"No. It's for boys, Tommy. Teenage boys. We're telling them to act like men."

"Instead of like girls."

"Yes. Instead of like-no. Instead of like _boys_. Come on. Why are you doing this?"

Then, Crewe chimed in on the matter: "Hey. Hey. Hey. Miss Congeniality?"

When he got their full attention, he continued, "It's a metaphor. It's an anthem for every guy, who's ever been twisted around a girl's little finger. And if _I'm_ explaining that to _you_ , we're in trouble."

Seeing the look on Tommy's face through the glass, Theresa stiffled a laugh behind her hand. She loved her brother to death. But sometimes, he could be really dense.

Evidentally, the producer shared her sentiments, and he was fed up with it: "Now, knock off the bullcrap. Sing the song! Roll the tape, Phil!"

She wanted the guys to go into this in a good mood. So, to bring that back, she discreetly put her hands on either side of Crewe's head and flapped them back-and-forth, like donkey ears. She pulled back and tried to look innocent, when he looked over his shoulder to see what was going on. The plan worked. Frankie had to clamp down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud. Then came the _stomp, stomp-stomp, stomp, stomp-stomp_ that would be the opening. Bob cued up the drums, and Frankie hit that first high note. Theresa felt that familiar warmth in her chest, which always told her a specific song would do well. The sensation had never failed her before, and it certainly didn't now. "Walk Like A Man" kept the fans happy and cozy, as winter officially began closing in. Soon enough, it was Christmas Eve. This was the first time Theresa wouldn't be spending the holiday in Salem, with her mother's side of her family. Without her saying so, they understood she wanted to be with her other family and new friends, and they were very gracious about it. They made a comprimise with her, saying she could come for New Year's, instead.

She was on a laughter high as she lounged on her couch, having just watched a brand-new holiday special. Reaching down, she scratched behind the ears of the puppy Frankie had given her: Yukon. Suddenly, the relative quiet was broken by the sound of a phone ringing.

"Hello?"

"Yo! What's goin' on there, Lil' T?"

She smiled, remembering how he'd started calling her that last month. Ironically enough, that time was also through the phone, but she'd been at her grandparents' house for Thanksgiving. Despite being happy to have returned to her home state, she still missed Tommy and the guys a lot.

She told him, "I'm good, Big T. "

"Just _good_? Dat don't sound right. You should be more upbeat and excited. I mean, come on. It's Christmas."

"Really", and she giggled at the grunt he made, "I take it you have ideas, then?"

"Yeah. I booked the Frank Sinatra suite at the Waldorf. Bobby and Nicky are here, too. We got ourselves a little party goin' on."

She knew the words "Little" and "party" didn't go together in Tommy's world. Apparently, being subtle didn't belong there, either, given how easy it was for her to understand what he was really doing.

She gave another slight laugh, before saying, "Don't worry. I'll be there. I just need to change clothes."

"A'right. See ya then."

"See you."

It took Theresa roughly forty minutes to get fully prepared, and to drive across the Hudson and reach the hotel. She was amazed at how easy the drive was, since there was usually so much traffic. She didn't know why, but she felt a bit awkward as she stood outside the suite's door. She nervously fidgeted with the hem of her pale pink sweater-dress, which stopped an inch above her knee and had white snowflake embroidery around the waist. Her hair was done in a high-set ponytail, and silver snowflakes dangled from her ears. A white double-breasted coat and brown, fur-lined, knee-high boots kept her warm. She could hear lots of noise on the other side of the door, as she knocked on it. Seconds later, Tommy appeared. His dress shirt was opened to reveal the undershirt beneath, and he sported a wide cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. If he wasn't totally drunk yet, she could tell he'd be there soon.

"Hey! There she is! Bring it in here, baby girl! Mwaa!"

With that, he gave her cheek a loud kiss. He didn't give her a chance to respond, when he then pulled her in for a hug. She let out a squeak at the suddenness of it, before fully relaxing into his embrace.

"Merry Christmas, Tommy."

"Merry Christmas. Shut the door behind ya, a'right?"

"Sure."

Once that was done, he put his arm around her again and turned her to face the rest of the room.

He called out, "Eyes front, people! We got us a little princess here!"

Theresa tried not to let her discomfort show, at being the center of attention. The place looked like a hurricane had gone through it. Beer bottles were scattered everywhere. A waiter stood next to the balcony door, his tie undone and looking like it was taking all his strength to stay upright. She offered tentative, slightly-awkward waves at any of the scantily-clad girls that made eye-contact. She scanned the area, looking for a familiar face. Eventually, she found him: Nick, sprawled across an armchair with a leggy blond in his lap. A Santa hat was askew on his head. He had a beer in his right hand, and an odd-looking cigarette pinched between his left thumb and index finger. He smiled when he saw her, stifling a laugh at the "Help me" look on her face.

He called across the room, "Come on, Tomooch. Let the kid put her coat down, before you start parading her like a show-dog."

Tommy gave him the finger, which made Theresa giggle. Despite the unusual circumstances, she was still flattered to know her brother had been bragging about her to his friends.

He told her, "Just put it on the island in the kitchen. Nobody's gonna bother it."

"Okay."

A little while later, Theresa had crammed her way onto a couch. A plate of gingebread cookies was on her lap, and a glass of the only non-alcoholic drink in the place, hot apple cider, was in her left hand. The sweets were a welcome distraction from the surrounding chaos, as was the voice of Perry Como, pouring from the radio.

She turned to Nick, who was in the chair beside her spot, and said softly, "This place is _insane_."

He laughed and replied, "It ain't that bad."

"Easy for you to say. You're used to it."

"Fair enough."

"Mm. And...hey, where's Bob? Tommy said he was here. I think I saw him peek out from somewhere, but I can't be sure."

"You're just noticin' that _now_?"

He chuckled under his breath, when she gave him a brief glare.

Then, he gestured towards the bedrooms and said, "He went that-a-way, I think."

"Thanks."

She weaved her way through several wiggling bodies, eventually finding her way to the bedrooms/bathrooms area. The muffled sound of a televison led her to one particular door, and she was cautious as she peered inside. Bob was sitting on the bed, looking bored out of his mind as he stared at the screen. Poor thing. The corner of her mouth twitched up, and she tapped her knuckle twice against the door to get his attention.

"Hey, stranger."

"Hi, Rees. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to _you_. What are you doing in here all alone?"

He responded by pointing at the small television set. On the screen, a familiar face traded flirtations with a cute short-haired girl.

" Sweet. I like 'Rawhide', too", and she paused before continuing, "So, that explains the 'what'. Now, how about the 'why'?"

He told her, "You know, I don't mind the occasional good time. But _that_ ", and he gestured at the wall to reference the party beyond it, "-is _insanity_."

A giggle was followed by, "It's funny you say that, actually. I told Nicky the same thing."

"I guess great minds think alike."

"Mm."

There was a flicker of hope in Bob's eyes, a type of hope Theresa hadn't seen before. It passed too quickly, though, for her to give it serious consideration. Somewhere behind her, she could hear Tommy getting into a conversation with one of the high-end callgirls. She recignized the female voice as belonging to a girl named Raven. Apparently, the keyboardist could hear them, too, judging by the way he tilted his head slightly to the left.

Clearing her throat, Theresa said, "I guess my brother's found his hot water bottle for tonight."

The keyboardist knew that three-word-phrase meant "conquest".

He gave a clipped chuckle and replied, "Yeah. Maybe."

"Um...", and she peeked into the small hallway, "Hang on a second, okay? I'll be right back"

"Sure."

As she walked out, she nearly collided with Tommy and Raven. She didn't think anything of it at first.

"Havin' a good time, Lil' T?"

"Seems I'm not the only one."

She nodded at the black-haired beauty on his arm.

"Hey, no judgin'. Dis ain't for _me_."

"She's not my type."

Raven hid a giggle behind her hamd, while Tommy made a "tsk" noise.

"Go back inside, a'right?"

" _Fine_. Just be quiet, is all I ask", she told him with a smile, before walking away.

He called back over his shoulder, "I said dis wasn't for me!"

Now, Theresa was the one giggling. At least, that was until she realized which door they were heading towards. What the hell was going on? She discreetly watched as her brother turned the knob and pushed the door open. She could only imagine the look on Bob's face, what he must've been thinking.

Tommy smiled and gestured at Raven, saying, "We brought the boy to the party. Now, we bring the party to the boy."

The truth of the plan fully dawned on the seventeen-year-old.

She whispered, "Oh, he is _not_..."

It was confirmed when he then said, "Enjoy yourselves."

As she stepped in and closed the door behind her, Raven replied, "We will."

Tommy walked past Theresa, as he crossed back into the living room.

"What's eatin' _you_?"

She pointed down the hall to make her point. He started laughing.

"It's not funny."

"Hey, there's nothin' more poetic, than when two prople enact the oldest dance on Earth. It's a nice gift to give."

She laughed out the word "poetic", before saying, "Right. Let's get you back to the spiked eggnog, Longfellow."

When he smirked, she realized the innuendo she'd made.

She rolled her eyes and asked, "I walked right into that one, didn't I?

"More like _skipped_."

She groaned, grabbing his wrist as she dragged him back towards the couches. A little while later, Tommy kept checking his watch as he nibbled on a cookie. Theresa asked why he was doing that, saying it was starting to make her nervous.

He told her, "I was just wonderin' how Bobby was doin'. Hey, Machoch..."

He threw a crumpled cheeseburger wrapper at the bassist to get his attention.

"What gives, man?"

Tommy was smiling, as he gestured towards the hallway and said, "Let's go check it out, huh?"

Now, Nick was smiling, too. A few of the party guests had been listening in on the conversation, and they decided to go along.

As he got up, Theresa shouted after her brother, "You're _so_ immature!"

"Then why are ya comin' with us?"

"I'm _not_."

He didn't respond. She waited at the entrance to the hall, watching in embarrassment and horror as Tommy knocked on Bob's door. Whatever they saw must've been pleasing, because they burst into laughter and applause. The voices were so mixed together, that Theresa could barely tell who was saying what. A barely-visible ring of smoke floated out from within the room.

Then, she finally heard Bob speak up: "You were right. It _is_ more fun with another person."

There was another round of applause and laughter. Despite the awkward situation, Theresa let out a laugh of her own. If the keyboardist was okay with everything, so was she. It wasn't long after this, that she realized she needed to go home. She was a bit reluctant to leave. She sighed as Tommy hugged her good-bye.

He said, "Be careful on the road, a'right? Ya know the number for the room. Call me when ya get home, so I know you're okay."

The corner of her mouth twitched. She knew he was only speaking in this near-whisper voice, because he was trying to hide his softer side.

"I'll be fine, Big T. I promise to call. I love you."

"Love ya, too. Merry Christmas."

Once she was back at her house, and after she'd made the asked-for call to her brother, Theresa was relaxing in her armchair with an ice-cold glass of cranberry juice. Yukon was on the floor beside her. Her arm dangled casually over the side of the chair, her fingertips grazing the top of his head. Suddenly, she remembered that there was another important phone call to make. She hoped he hadn't gone to sleep yet, and that she wouldn't wake up anyone else there.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Frankie. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, doll. What's shakin'?"

"I just came back from feeding time at the zoo."

He chuckled warmly and said, "Come on. Tommy's party couldn't have been _that_ bad."

"Really? How long has it been, since you've actually gone to one?"

His laughter got a bit louder, and she started making giggles of her own. She asked him what his plans were for tomorrow.

He told her, "Mary and I are takin' the girls to church. We'll meet my parents there, then go for a late breakfast. We'll open presents, when we get home."

"Sounds good. And speaking of presents, I hope your wife likes the silk robe I bought her, and that your daughters like their new porcelain dolls."

"Sure, they will. They love that kind of stuff. How about you? Got any plans?"

"Well, not church, since I went to the evening mass tonight. Before the party, I mean. I'll probably sleep in tomorrow, and then open the gifts that got sent here."

She briefly thought about the fifth present she'd sent to the Valli household, this one for Frankie. It was a Rolex watch, which Crewe had graciously put up half the money for. It was custom-ordered: white gold with an emerald-green face. The face's color was a nod to his birthstone. She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping she'd chosen right. Her gaze briefly flicked across the room, settling on the pile of shiny, wrapped boxes by the door. She wondered which one had come from him, and what it was. He yawned, and she stifled a giggle over it. She realized that their conversation was wrapping up.

She said, "Sounds like we both need to crash. Especially you, man. You need to save your energy."

"Ha-ha. Yeah. I guess so. I'll talk to ya tomorrow, Rees. Maybe after lunch."

"Okay. Talk to you then. Good night."

"Night."

Theresa felt a bit breathless, as she hung up the phone. It'd been several months since she'd first met him, and she was no closer to understanding this feeling she'd get whenever she was around Frankie. It wasn't the type of confusion she was used to, and she wasn't sure if she liked that fact or not. She took another sip of her juice, messaging out a bit of sinus pressure with her opposite hand. As the voice of Andy Williams poured from the tiny radio next to her chair, her eyelids grew heavy. The snore Yukon made earned a slight chuckle, before she finally gave into sleep. She was extremely achy the next morning, due to her sleeping in the chair. She didn't mind, though. That's what aspirin was for.

 _ **AN: Prayers going out to Louisiana, which is still dealing with horrible flooding & is expecting even more rain soon. Can't wait to hear your feedback on this chapter.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: I call this chapter "Meeting Mrs. Valli". Also, a couple of quick things about the timeline of this story. I had to move everything up by one year (meaning '62 becomes '63), so Theresa & the guys could be in the right positions to appreciate certain historical events. She's twelve years younger than Frankie, which means she was born in 1946. I'm not sure of the age difference between each Season, only that Bob was the youngest. **_

Theresa never thought she'd be so thankful for a burst pipe. That day at school had been rough. She had a migraine during lunch, which meant she had to eat and rest a bit in the nurse's office. She would've left earlier, if she didn't have that important biology test. She felt okay now, thank goodness, but she still couldn't wait to get home and have a nicer, longer nap. She mentally crossed herself, praying she'd never have to tell the guys about it. She knew how they'd worry about her. As she was walking past the office, the receptionist stuck her head out from the doorway.

She asked, "Rees?"

"What is it?"

"Your brother left a message."

"Which one? I've got two of them."

As casually as that sounded, Theresa inwardly cringed. She felt bad that she wasn't as close with her other brother, the other Nick, as she probably should be.

The receptionist then said, "It was Tommy. He said that he wanted you to meet him at", and she paused while checking the paper, "-Crewe's place. He said they were having a little celebration, but he neglected to mention what it was for."

"Thanks for telling me."

"No problem."

She wondered how much information had truly been shared with the woman. So far, she'd told nobody else that her brother was a Season. She didn't want to be treated differently because of it. Not even her best friend, Brie, knew. She regretted how little they'd seen of each other lately. Hopefully, that would soon change. When she got to Crewe's building, she was surprised to find that her brother was nowhere to be found. Instead, it was Frankie, who met her in the lobby. Her heart fluttered when she saw him, and she briefly glanced at the ground to hide the blush in her cheeks. Thankfully, she sensed it go away, before he approached her.

"What's shakin', doll? Ya doin' okay?"

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she replied, "Yeah. I'm pretty good."

"I didn't expect ya to be here so early. I mean, I know Tommy left the message for your school, but we didn't think you'd arrive for another couple of hours."

"A pipe burst and caused some flooding. They sent the students home early."

"How long do they think it'll take to get fixed?"

"Soon. I mean, we were going to have a three-day weekend anyway. So, it should be done by next Monday."

"Sounds good."

He smiled, as he clapped her on the shoulder. She didn't quite understand the sweet prickling that touch left behind, but she still liked it. She didn't know he felt the same way. Frankie turned around and began walking towards the elevator, clamping down his top teeth on his bottom lip as he reined in his emotions. Once they got into the cramped space, Theresa's good mood chased away his anxiety.

She asked him, "So, what's this whole", and she made air-quotes, "-'celebration' thing about, anyway?"

"Yeah. I meant to tell ya in the lobby. 'Walk Like A Man' hit the top of the charts this mornin'."

" _Y_ _ou meant to tell me_ ", and she giggled before continuing, "Frankie, that's fantastic! I'm so proud of you guys!"

They were both laughing joyfully, as they hugged. The spark from earlier was still there, but it was easier to ignore this time. Crewe greeted them at the door, hugging the seventeen-year-old , as she walked inside.

"What's up, baby?"

"I caught a lucky break at school."

She repeated the story about the burst pipe, before looking over her shoulder and smiling when she spotted another familiar face. Bob was at the bar counter, rolling a glass of what appeared to be scotch back-and-forth between his hands. As she, too, took a seat, she patted the keyboardist on the back.

"Hey, Bobby."

"Hey, Rees. How are you?"

"Doing fine. You?"

He held up his half-empty glass and said, "Never better."

"I can imagine why. Frankie told me the good news in the elevator."

Bob's cheeks briefly flushed scarlet. Then, as Theresa took a breath, she noted the thick, sweet scent in the air.

"That...what the heck is that smell?"

"What smell?"

"Take a deep breath", and she continued after he'd done that, "See what I mean?"

"Oh, that's Colin. He's doing something in the kitchen, but he won't say what."

Colin was a "friend" of Crewe's. They "hung out" a lot.

She said, "Mm. It seems there's been a lot of secrecy, going around today."

Some of it was on her end, and she didn't want to talk about it yet. Frankie joined them, standing at a spot on her right. A few minutes later, Colin emerged from the kitchen. He carried a large sheet cake in his arms, a cake which had three stars done in frosting on the top. The stars were pink, blue, and green, respectively, and each contained a song title. Theresa could hear two men, talking loudly out in the hall. The corner of her mouth twitched, as their voices drew closer and closer. She'd recognized them immediately. She didn't comment, though, as she heard the apartment's doorknob turn.

When the cake was placed on the counter, the producer said, "Didn't I say the stars were in alignment? Three number ones in a row."

Bob told him, "Well, you are always right, Crewe. You're always right."

"Yeah. Where's Tommy and Nicky? Get them in here."

Apparently, he was more perceptive in that moment than Theresa thought.

Then came that voice she knew so well: "Look. He's got golden ears. He's blind as a bat."

Tommy walked up behind his sister, placing both hands on her shoulders and quickly kissing the top of her head.

He then gestured at the cake and said excitedly, "Look at dat! Three numba' ones! Come on! Who's the best freakin' team, huh?! Up here, Frankie!"

He grunted when they exchanged high-fives, each man sporting a wide smile. Theresa's mouth was watering, as she cut herself a piece of the cake. She was just swallowing her first bite, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Enjoyin' yourself, Rees?"

"Oh, yeah", and she giggled as she hugged him, before saying, "Hey, Nicky. How are you?"

" _Real_ good. You?"

"I'm alright."

"Gonna come sit with me and Tommy? The couch is more comfortable."

"I'll be there in a little bit. Promise."

"Okay."

Theresa chose a book from a nearby shelf, and she was happy to lose herself in it while she ate. She was debating whether or not to have a second piece, when there was some movement in the corner of her vision. Trying to act like she wasn't paying attention, she watched Frankie go over to look at one of Crewe's beautiful paintings. Bob followed soon after, somehow managing to eat his slice of cake and not accidentally walk into a wall. She felt bad, listening to their conversation. But given how close by they were standing, it was inevitable she'd hear something.

Bob said, "Maybe, we should make an investment."

Frankie asked, "In what? In art?"

"Mm-mm. In us."

"What do you mean?

"Well, you've got the voice. I've got the songs."

"Yeah. So?"

"So", and he put down his now-empty plate, "-we make a partnership. I give you half of everything I write, and you give me half of everything you record outside the group."

"Why would I want to record outside the group?"

"I don't know. Things happen."

He was right. Theresa had been a Girl Scout, and she was still a firm believer in their motto: "Always be prepared." But still...something inside her said this arrangement would prove bittersweet in the end. She just wasn't sure who'd get the bitter end, and who'd get the sweet. She didn't want the group to ever split up. The idea of it just didn't compute in her mind.

Frankie didn't know it, but his next words reflected some of her musings: "What about Tommy and Nick? I mean, Nicky's the one who really got me singin'. And Tommy...I wouldn't be here, if it weren't for him."

Speak of the devil. As if on cue, Tommy made his way over to a piece of wall near his bandmates. Unlike his sister, he wasn't as discreet or guilty about eavesdropping. Theresa would've been embarrassed for him, if someone caught this. Luckily, no one did. Meanwhile, the conversation continued.

Bob promised, "It won't cut into their share. I'd never do that."

Frankie said, "But we gotta tell 'em."

"Yeah. Of course."

He returned his focus to the painting. But apparently, the singer wanted to keep talking. He lightly tapped his friend's arm.

When they remade eye-contact, he asked, "Hey, if things work out, you think we could talk about a saxophone?"

Theresa stifled a giggle. She knew how much Frankie loved jazz, and how he was always keen to include references to it.

Bob replied, "If things work out, we can talk about a whole horn section."

A look of consideration was followed by, "Okay. I'm in."

"Great. I'll have somebody draw up a contract."

"What? You mean, like, sign a piece of paper from a lawyer?"

"Yeah."

Frankie rolled his eyes and asked, "Look, you wanna do this thing?"

"Yeah, but we really should get-"

"So, we do it. You want a contract? Here", and he held out his hand, before finishing, "-a Jersey contract."

Theresa knew a promise like that couldn't be made lightly, especially in the environment the guys had grown up in. As the pair shook hands, Theresa heard a clipped huff to her right. Looking over her shoulder, she watched her brother's expression morph from curious and mildly annoyed, to downright angry. He turned on his heel and began walking away.

As he stalked past her, she asked, "What's the matter, Big T?"

" _Nothin_ '."

If his short tone bothered her, she gave no indication of it. She played it cool, while Frankie and Bob made their way back into the living room. As the minutes ticked by, she saw that Tommy's stormy mood showed no signs of lifting. Thank goodness, the others didn't seem to notice, so there wouldn't be any drama induced by their questions. Sighing, she reached for the newspaper. Maybe, that would provide some kind of solution. She struck gold within a minute.

"Hey, guys", she said, "There's a new 'Dracula' movie, playing at the drive-in."

"So?"

" _So_ , we should go see it. Is being cooped up inside, wasting this beautiful day, the way you really want to celebrate your newest success?"

Everything briefly went quiet.

Then, Frankie said, "You know what? That ain't a bad idea. I'll call Mary, and have her meet us there."

As he strode over to the phone to do just that, Theresa felt her stomach clench. This would be the first time she'd meet the singer's wife. She wondered if having this unsettled feeling was normal. She helped carry the portable chairs down to Nick's car. His significant other would meet them at the drive-in, just like Frankie's. Tommy was the last one to leave the building. She asked him what took so long.

He told her, "Hey, chill, a'right? I was just callin' a date."

"A date? What about this other sister-in-law I've yet to meet?"

"Stefania has her life, and I have mine."

"She really believes that?"

"She suggested it. Her 'rents were pretty strict, and she really wanted to get outta there."

As difficult as it was to hear this, Theresa understood what her brother meant. His wife had only married him, to escape a house she hated. They cared about each other, but they weren't truly in-love. That was why she was so okay with his casual behavior. She probably wasn't too different from him. Still, Theresa knew she'd at least have to send a letter at some point. That was the right thing to do, after all. The drive-in was pretty packed, by the time they arrived, and the sun was almost completely down. The guys busied themselves with different tasks. Frankie set out the chairs, while Bob and Tommy spread the towels on the grass. Crewe and Nick headed over to the concession stand to pick up every type of snack they could possibly need.

In a jokey tone, she called to them, "Don't forget my red vines!"

Nick shot back, "We _got_ it, Rees!"

He smiled and winked at her, which earned a giggle. She then walked over to Bob and asked if she could help him with the towels.

"I've only got one left", he said.

"That's okay. I'm a little antsy. I need something to occupy myself."

She was smoothing out the last corner, when a blond woman walked over to their sitting spot. It was Nick's girlfriend, Lily. He'd mentioned having dated a couple of other girls, including a fiesty brunette named Cynthia. They were all aware of, and okay with, the non-exclusiveness. He often said he'd know, when the time was right to get married. After shaking hands with Lily, Theresa glimpsed her reflection in Crewe's car's rear-view mirror. In her orange t-shirt, dark jeans, and dark brown ankle boots, she looked all of seventeen. Younger, even, with the right lighting. She adjusted her headband, black with white peace signs, and she kept fluffing her hair. She wanted to make a good impression on Mary, despite the odd swirl of emotions she felt towards the woman's husband. Frankie must've been watching her fidget.

He walked up behind her and said, "Calm down, okay? She won't bite."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but they didn't help much. Then, another car pulled up close to their spot, and its driver got out. Mary Valli was every bit the bombshell Theresa had expected her to be. Perhaps without realizing it, she seemed to be a woman who only existed to make others feel inadequate. She wore a navy-blue, short-sleeved, peasant blouse. A flowy tan skirt emphasized her long, coltish legs, and the matching tan heels gave her a couple extra inches of height. Her wavy golden-brown hair drifted around in the breeze. Her cherry-red lips parted in a smile.

Flicking her hazel eyes at each of them, her accent was clear as she said simply, "Hi, all."

Tommy, who was already chowing down on some popcorn, replied, "Yo!"

Mary rolled her eyes at his rudeness, before taking a seat beside her husband. He draped his arm around her shoulders, smiling as they made eye-contact.

"Hey, baby", she told him.

"Come here."

This was meant to be a tender moment between the couple. But for Theresa, when she saw their lips touch, she flinched. Her fingers twitched, and her eyes went to the ground as a sharp pain went through her stomach. What the hell was going on? Bob instantly picked up on her distress.

"You alright, Rees?"

"What? Oh, um...yeah. I'm fine", and she quickly thought up a plausible lie, before continuing, "I saw a wasp. They're, like, one of my biggest fears. Not sure if I'm allergic or not, but better safe than sorry."

"Okay."

He returned his attention to the images on the screen, missing the look of relief on her face. She looked up right as the count rose from his coffin for the first time. The background music was spooky, but also regal. It felt like a bit like the musical eqivalent of an earthquake. The camera zoomed in on his eyes.

Theresa smiled and said, "He might be playing a monster, but Christopher Lee is _so_ handsome."

"Damn straight, he is."

Turning to the side, her eyes locked with Mary's. Frankie had already shared that this wife was a woman of extremes. She could be sweet and full of fiery, sarcastic humor, but she could also be volcanic with her temper. She was open and unashamed of how tough life had made her. That analysis passed in a couple of seconds. Frankie must've heard their exchange.

He asked, "And what am _I_? Chopped liva'?"

Mary let go a slight laugh, playfully backhanding him in the chest. The women faced each other again.

"You must be Tommy' sista'."

A shy giggle was followed by, "Yeah. I guess that's me."

"Nice to meecha."

"Likewise", she replied as they shook hands.

Things were quiet for the next little while, with only idle chatter about the movie breaking that up. When it was over, Theresa said that, because she'd done so little to help before, she should be the one to take away the garbage now. Crewe offered to go with her, saying, they had to use the buddy system.

"This isn't summer camp."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up with it.

She giggled and said, "Alright. Come on."

It felt like she was doing strength-training, with how hard she had to shove the wrappers, bags, and cups into the bin. Crewe was behind her, arms crossed and leaning against a wall.

He chuckled under his breath and said, "Go, muscles!"

That laugh got a bit louder, when she shot him a glare. She laughed, too, however, when he gave her a playful wink.

He then took a deep breath and said, "I know how it feels, sweetie."

"How what feels?"

Theresa's blood briefly ran cold, when he nodded in the direction of their sitting spot. She really thought she'd done a good job of being subtle.

He went on to say, "I meant that I know what it's like to want somebody, who society says you can't have. Crushes like that can be painful. So, if you ever need to talk, I'm here to listen."

She hoped he couldn't see the blush in her cheeks. She began nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

She said, "Um...thanks. That's really sweet of you to say."

As they began walking back, she decided to take a page from her brother's book and use humor to deflect an awkward situation.

Tapping his arm to get his attention again, she asked, "So, does this make you, like, my conscience, or something?"

He smiled and replied, "Nah. More like your fairy godmother."

She gave him a light, playful shove, giggling as he took a couple steps ahead of her. Theresa was grateful he could no longer see the contemplation, coming into her facial expression. She began thinking back on what he'd told her at the trash bin. So, that's what this emotional craziness was about. It was just a crush. Crushes were cute, and they ultimately faded with time. So would this one. It had to.

 _ **AN: This will probably be one of the only times I mention Tommy's wife (the name's made up). That's because she was only referred to once in the movie, right before Frankie enters Tommy's apartment to tell him about the so-called shooting in his car. Also, I liked the idea that Crewe could understand what Theresa is going through ("to want somebody, who society says you can't have"), since he's been forced to hide his real feelings, too.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: Here, Theresa finally meets Frankie's daughters, and she gets a taste of the problems in the Valli marriage.**_

Theresa was glad the initial ice with Mary had been broken. The next step would be meeting the daughters. Her thoughts drifted to little Francine, in particular. According to both of her parents, she was a total sweetheart, but she was a bit standoffish at first around new people. Theresa sighed as she mused over it, still partially distracted by the dishes she was washing. She was drying her hands, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rees. How are ya?"

"Oh, hi, Mary. What's up?"

Man, this was ironic.

"I need your help with somethin'."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Calm down. Nobody's dyin'", and she giggled before continuing, "I'm meetin' my sista' for a shared hair appointment, but every babysitta' I called wasn't available. Frankie told me you're involved in that kind of thing, so I was wonderin' if you could help me out."

Now, it was a double-irony. Obviously, Mary must've cleared this idea with her husband, before calling Theresa. She wondered if Tommy knew, too. She missed the guys a lot, since they were away on tour. When she remembered that Mary was waiting for an answer, she forced a couple of coughs as a plausible excuse.

Then, she told her, "Sure. I'll be there. I mean, I haven't met the girls yet, so I hope they like me."

"I think they will. They've heard enough about ya."

"Uh-oh."

The pair shared a laugh, before Theresa said, "Let me get a pen and paper, okay? I want to write down the directions to your house."

"Sure."

Theresa was full of nervous anticipation, while standing on the doorstep of Casa Valli. She took a deep breath, before knocking on the door and embracing the new milestone.

"Sorry for being a couple minutes late. I hit some road construction on the way here."

As she hugged her, Mary replied, "It's no trouble. I still got plenty of time."

It was then that the seventeen-year-old got her first full glimpse of the house's interior. The walls were sold white, and the floors were made of a light-colored cedar wood. The couches were suede and a pretty shade of reddish-brown. Theresa's favorite accessory was the small pillows: champagne-colored, but with red and dark blue polka-dots. She could hear several loud footsteps overhead, and she giggled when her eyes met Mary's again.

The older woman said, "It's like a freakin' heard of elephants, sometimes. I swear."

"Nah. They're fine."

"Yeah. Ya think so _now_ ", and she took a quick, deep breath before continuing, "Celia! Toni! Francine! Front and centa'!"

"Coming, Mom", an adolescent-sounding voice yelled back.

Seconds later, three brown heads appeared on the staircase, lined up diagonally along the bannister.

Mary put an arm around the seventeen-year-old and said, "Rees is in charge while I'm gone, understand? You betta' behave for her."

"We will", replied the girl closest to them.

She then walked over and introduced herself to her babysitter: "I'm Celia."

"I know. Your dad showed me pictures. I'm glad to finally meet you."

"You're Uncle Tommy's sister, right", asked the next girl in line.

The gold A-shaped charm on her necklace gave away her identity: Antonia, the middle child.

"Yeah. That's me."

Mary left a few seconds later, once she'd given each of her daughters a final hug goodbye. After shutting the door, Theresa turned to the girls and clapped her hands together.

She asked, "So...what would you like to do first?"

"I'm not sure", Celia said with a giggle, "We didn't really think about it."

"Well...okay. Check in your room, and see how much nail polish you have. We'll start there, and see where the wind takes us. How does that sound?"

"Great!"

She smiled, watching the girl jog back upstairs. A few minutes later, they were sitting cross-legged on the floor. A cluster of polish bottles sat in the middle of the circle they'd created. Theresa said they could go from oldest to youngest, in picking their colors. She chose a sparkly shade of red, which she affectionately called "Dorothy slipper". Celia picked a metallic shade of kelly-green. Antonia decided to layer two colors together, a solid sky-blue with a clear coat of pink sparkles, while Francine chose a soft shade of apricot. The youngest Valli girl remained mostly subdued, only smiling occasionally when one of her sisters would make a joke. Theresa was curious as to why she was being so quiet, but was a bit nervous about asking. She tried to think of a way to make all of them smile. The girls didn't realize it, but they suddenly gave their babysitter an idea.

When Antonia showed off the sparkle of her second coat, she said, "Pretty sweet, huh?"

Sweets. That was the answer. When she felt her nails were dry enough, Theresa ventured into the kitchen with the excuse of needing a drink. She searched through the cabinet, skimming past a couple boxes of muffin mix before she discovered one for double-chocolate-chunk cookies. Bingo. She was breaking the required eggs into a bowl, when a small framed portrait caught her eye. It sat on the counter near the sink, and it'd clearly been taken at Frankie and Mary's wedding. The happy couple were sharing a piece of cake, both smiling as they fed pieces to each other. Meanwhile, Tommy could just barely be seen behind them, sticking his head up over the tops of their heads. Theresa giggled over how much of a ham he was. While the cookies baked, she decided to teach the girls a boardgame they claimed to have never played before: chess. They did a couple of test-run games, more showing the ropes than truly keeping score. Then, over her shoulder, Theresa noticed that Francine was now sitting on the couch. The girl looked so lonely, randomely flipping through t. v. channels. She barely seemed to notice, when a spot beside her was jostled.

"Hi, Rees."

"Hi, sweetie. What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. A little lonely, I guess."

She understood what the girl meant. Francine was missing her father. She hoped this wouldn't interfere with the bridge she was trying to build. She tried to think of something to calm the child down. An idea came, as she watched her twirl a lock of hair around her finger.

"Would you like me to braid your hair, sweetie?"

"What?"

"I asked if you wanted me to braid your hair."

"You can do that?"

Theresa replied, "Sure, I can. My mom taught me, when I was about your age. If you can get a couple of bands from your room, I'll do it right now."

"Mommy keeps an extra brush in the downstairs half-bath. She says it's for guests."

"That's perfect. I didn't want to go upstairs, anyway. I'd feel like I was invading your private family space."

A couple of minutes later, she was twisting Francine's hair into a perfect French braid. Suddenly, she got an unexpected question.

"How do you handle missing your brother, when he's away?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

Maybe, the girl was looking for ways to handle her own stress, and she planned to use Theresa's answer as advice.

"I do things and go places that remind me of him."

"Like what? Where do you go?"

"Some of the clubs the guys used to play in. I have to show the owners my emancipation card, which says I'm to be considered aa an adult."

"That sounds cool", Antonia chimed in, "I wish I had one of those cards."

"No, you don't. Trust me", Theresa replied, "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

Then, she said, "I also go their favorite restaurants, and even music supply shops. The dude, who Tommy and Nick buys their strings from, knows me pretty well. Anything that makes me feel closer to them is fine."

"What about singing? Can you do that?"

Theresa froze. She hadn't been asked this question by the guys yet, but she knew it was going to happen sooner or later.

She thought for a minute, before answering, "I haven't sung in several years."

"Oh."

When the girl didn't pose another question, Theresa asked, "Can _you_ sing, sweetie? Is that why you asked that?"

"What you said about connecting...I'd like to connect with Daddy in some way. There's nothing better than having a shared passion, right?"

"Exactly. You know, you speak very maturely for a girl of your age."

By that point, Theresa had finished Francine's braid, and the cookies were done. The youngest Valli girl was also in a much-better mood, which was probably helped by the warm, gooey treats. They were just about to clean up, when Mary got home.

"Seems like youse had a pretty good time", she said.

"Yeah. I guess we did. How did your appointment go?"

"It was fine. There was a fireman in there with his little boy, and he gave my sista' his numba'."

"Well, good for her", Theresa replied through a laugh.

Then, she noticed what'd been done to her youngest daughter's hair.

"Look at you, baby girl. That's so pretty."

"Rees did it. She said her mother taught her how."

Though Mary kept smiling, Theresa thought she saw a flicker of jealousy in the older woman's eyes. But why, though? She didn't get the time to wonder, though, because a folded wad of bills was placed in her hand.

"Thanks so much for this."

"It's no trouble. They were great."

As she went through the doorway, Theresa observed something odd. Mary walked straight into the kitchen and ducked down into one specific cabinet, taking out a bottle of what was either brandy or scotch. Antonia noticed the direction she'd been staring in.

As the door was shut, she whispered to her, "Mom's taking her medicine again."

With that, she was gone. Theresa mouthed the word "medcine" in a questioning way, as she walked to her car. She'd taken a relaxing bubble-bath and had changed clothes, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"What's shakin', doll?"

She giggled. This had pretty much become their special greeting, by that point. She'd been looking forward to this phone call. It was the second of the three she got each week, something which the guys had promised her.

"Hey, Frankie. I'm doing okay. I finally used those aromatherapy candles one of my cousins sent me for Christmas."

"Oh, yeah? What for?"

"A nice, long bath. I kind of needed it."

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to get that image out of his mind.

Then, she asked him, "So, what's everyone else doing?"

He told her, "Tommy and Nicky are downstairs, shootin' pool. Bobby's havin' allergy problems, and the meds the doc prescribed have him knocked out."

"Well, hopefully, this will help him recharge for the show tonight."

"Yeah. Hey, how was your time with the girls? Mary said you'd be babysittin' 'em today."

"They were great. Very well-behaved."

"They better be."

Another giggle was followed by, "We had some girly time, painting each other's nails and baking cookies. I taught them to play chess, too."

"Sounds like fun."

But something else had happened, which wasn't so fun. In fact, it was downright confusing. As awkward as it was, Theresa needed his opinion.

She told Frankie, "Um...Mary did something that kind of bugged me."

His tone suddenly became nervous: "What did she do _now_?"

Now? She definitely hadn't expected that response, nor the tone in which it was given. She knew Mary had a temper. But clearly, there was still more to her than met the eye.

She went on to say, "As I was leaving, I saw her head to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. She patted the girls on their shoulders, but she didn't really speak to them, before going in there. Toni said she was taking her medicine. Is that...normal for her?"

A sigh was followed with, "Sadly, yeah."

He made a noise she could only describe as a growl. This was followed by a shout and something heavy, crashing against a wall.

He yelled, "Man, I hate dis! It's part of the reason we fight so much! I keep tellin' her, doin' dis stuff in front of the girls is gonna _destroy_ 'em one day!"

Theresa felt the vibrations of his voice against her cheek. She'd never heard him so angry before. And the more agitated he got, the thicker his accent became. She repeated his name several times in a soft, soothing tone.

"Take a few deep breaths", she told him, "Relax. You're not thinking clearly right now."

"I'm _thinkin'_ just fine, doll."

He tried to sound sharp, but the fact that he'd used the nickname said he was already calming down. She didn't bother to ask what their other reasons for fighting were. Truth be told, she didn't really want to know.

When she felt everything was fully stable again, she said, "I know what this feels like, Frankie. Trust me. Addiction _is_ a scary thing, especially when kids are involved."

He didn't know why, but he felt a tug in his heart at the way she said "Trust me". It was something he'd definitely have to ask her about at some point.

He said, "I hate havin' all this drama on my mind, when I can't be there in person to deal with it."

"I know, but there's nothing that can be done right now. You'll just have to push it aside, until you get home. Have a good time, and don't worry. "

She didn't tell him that the static, caused by his heavy sigh, hurt her ear.

"I'm sorry for losin' it like that, Rees. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You didn't. I promise. I am here to listen, you know."

"Yeah. And I hope ya don't forget it's the same for _us_."

She made a soft, "Aw"-type squeal, thanking him for being so sweet. She then asked him if there were any other special things going on that he wanted to mention.

He chuckled warmly and said, "Well, Tommy's gonna kill me for spillin' the beans early. But we were thinkin that, once we get home, we'd take ya to meet our friend, Gyp."

"You mean that mob guy, you're constantly talking about?"

"Yeah. Gyp de Carlo."

"What family does he serve again?"

"Genovese. He's a _capo regime_ for them."

He realized, when his answer was followed by silence, that Theresa had no clue what this term referred to.

He said, "That means he's a captain. Ya know, like...like an executive vice president for some big, corporate business."

"Right. You mean monkey-business."

She smiled at the laugh her comment earned. They'd would be home in a couple more weeks. She could handle the wait. She was a little nervous about what kind of picture her brother had painted of her for Gyp, and whether or not she'd be able to live up to that picture. That question remained at the forefront of her mind, as she later hung up the phone. She let go a huge sigh, before collapsing into the nearby armchair. It wasn't the first time she'd wondered what she'd gotten herself into, since meeting the guys. And it probably wouldn't be the last, either.

 _ **AN: Sorry for the delay in updating. I haven't been feeling well, and neither has my mom. We're having a lot of financial trouble, & somebody we've known for 19yrs said many nasty things in a recent letter. We're trying to sort everything out. Anyway...in the next chapter, Theresa will face yet another first meeting. She'll also be confronted with a major question, and early plans will start being made for her eighteenth birthday party.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: Theresa finally sees the other side of the guys' background, and she displays another hidden talent.**_

The car rumbled along towards its destination. Theresa's knee bounced in nervous anticipation. She'd been looking forward to meeting Gyp, but she was still worried about her behavior. There were a lot of intracacies in mob culture she didn't know about, and she didn't want to offend any of them. She wore a dress she'd normally wear to church: short-sleeved and plum-colored, kissing the backs of her knees. Her hair was in its usual style, down but pinned back, and there were silver heels on her feet. She kept twiddling her yin-yang necklace, her face pressed against the window as she watched the scenery zoom by. She assumed the guys didn't notice anything, until Frankie's soft chuckle met her ears. When they reached a stop light, he looked over his shoulder from the driver's seat. She giggled when he smiled at her, knowing precisely what he was about to say.

Sure enough..."Relax, doll. He's gonna love ya. I promise."

"Frankie's right", Nick said, "Gyp does what he does, but he's not a bad guy at heart."

"It's what he does that I have a problem with", she replied.

"He respects takin' care of the women in your family. He's been yappin' at us for a while now, askin' when we were gonna bring you over."

"I just want to make a good impression."

"You'll be fine, Lil' T", Tommy said, as he put an arm around her.

She didn't get the chance to say more, but Frankie did.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder again and said, "We're here."

Theresa listened to the garbled voice that cane from the call-box. It sounded like an older man, but she couldn't be sure. Bob held the door open, so everybody in the back seat could get out. The seventeen-year-old's eyes widened, taking in the grandeur of the property. The exterior of the mansion was mostly red brick and sandstone. Elaborately-designed topiaries dotted the lawn. Was this really a mobster's house, or did some high-ranking politian or Wall Street executive live here? A couple of seconds later, she heard a door creak open and the sound of approaching footsteps. Her eyes immediately went to the ground.

"My boys! So good to see youse!"

She listened to the clapping of hands to upper backs, the sound of each man getting a hug. Frankie gave a soft chuckle. Though she didn't look, she knew he was smiling.

His voice was warm as he said, "It's good to see ya, too, Gyp."

"So, where's dis pretty girl ya keep tellin' me about?"

Tommy placed his hand against Theresa's back, gently and subtley nudging her forward. The teenager kept looking everywhere but up, not wanting her nerves to show on her face. There was the sound of a clicking tongue, which was followed by the slight pressure of a knuckle under her chin.

That new voice, ravaged by age and a likely smoking habit, said, "Lemme get a good look atcha."

She didn't pull away, letting him turn her face to look at him directly. Ash-brown hair faded into a more cinnamon color, before turning grey and finally white at the edges. Those periwinkle eyes must've struck terror into many during his long rise to being a captain, yet they still held a kind of grandfatherly tenderness.

"Much betta."

The corners of her mouth twitched, and she flashed a bit of teeth.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. de Carlo."

"Gyp, sweetheart. Call me Gyp. Now, let's all get a cuppa coffee, huh?"

With that, he turned on his heeel, and they followed him inside. Theresa was even more amazed by the interior of the home, than she was by the exterior. She lost count of how many paintings and marble busts she walked past. Most of the floors were either highly-polished magogany wood, or terracotta tiles. Gyp noticed her staring and chuckled. He told her that the only carpted rooms were the bedrooms and the den, which they were heading to. He then said the back porch had been modeled after a Roman temple, with half-columns holding up the railing, and that there was an old chapel on the mansion grounds.

He told her, "I'd walk ya around for the grand tour, but I can see you're pretty tired."

"You have no idea."

"What about us, huh", Nick asked, playfully clapping her on the shoulder.

She shoved him back, and they traded smiles. Theresa was finally starting to relax and enjoy her surroundings. She especially loved the de Carlo family portrait, which hung above the fireplace. It'd been done recently, according to Gyp, a way of celebrating the birth of his twin grandsons. That explained the two infants in the center foreground. She was admiring it, when Tommy brought her a mug of coffee.

He gestured at the painting and told her, "I drove Nina and Christiano home from the hospital, after the boys were born."

"Nina?"

"Gyp's youngest kid. She's the one on the end there."

She nodded in understanding. Tommy wandered back over to his friends, who were gathered around the piano near the large bay window. Bob was at the keyboard yet again. He was playing a few random notes, but nothing solid and steady. Theresa was leaning sideways against the instrument, making occasionaly comments on how he could string the notes together. She'd never studied music arranging, just like Nick hadn't, but she did know what sounded good. Bob smiled, happily trying her suggestions. Then, she noticed that Gyp was watching eyes met, and she shrugged as if to ask why he was staring.

He asked her, "Ya thinkin' of becomin' a musician like your brotha', sweetheart?"

"Uh...that does seem to be the family business."

From the corner of her eye, she notced the smirk Tommy made. It was pride over the idea that such talent could run in his genetics. Still, they both knew she hadn't really answered Gyp's question, and the looks on their faces showed that. Theresa sighed. She'd been wondering when this issue would come up.

She said, "Of course, I like the _idea_ of a career in music. But life's taught me different things than it's taught other people."

"Like what", her brother asked.

"Things most of you, maybe except Bobby, can understand. I don't ignore the other side. There's darkness. There's fear. There's lonliness. There's...there's this", and she gestured at her necklace, before continuing, "I know what you guys go through, when you're away from home. It's a balance, but the fans only want to see one part of it. Nobody wants to talk about when you're too tired or sick to go on, but it's too late to cancel the show. Nobody wants to talk about when there _is_ some spare time, but you're out of your mind in your hotel room, missing your family. It's easy to get exhausted in that life, if you're not careful."

Everything Theresa had said was true. They'd all been experiencing the first snippetts of what she'd described. They were just shocked the words had come from someone, who wasn't a veteran of that business. What could she possibly have been through, to have that much insight at her age? The unspoken question filled the room with an air of awkwardness. Tommy was the one to break the spell.

Clearing his throat, he took another sip of coffee and said, "So, prove it, then."

"Prove what?"

"You know what I'm talkin' about, Lil' T. I wantcha to show just how many of my genes ya really got in there. Sing with us."

"D-Do what now?"

He chuffed, before tapping his friend on the shoulder and asking, "Ya got your bass in the trunk, Nicky?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Go get it. My guitar, too. We're gonna have ourselves a little jam session here."

"On it."

"Wha-no. No. No. No. Tommy, _please_."

The more she begged, the bigger her brother's smile grew. It was one thing to answer a question. It was quite another to actually give a demonstration. It'd been a long time, since she'd felt this scared.

Bob clapped her on the arm and said, "Don't bother. When Tommy sets his mind to something, it's almost impossible to dissuade him."

Then, Frankie added his own two cents: "It's okay, Rees. You can do this."

Something about the tone of his voice surprised Theresa. This was one of the qualities she liked most about Frankie: his faith. Not since her mother's death, had somebody showed that much confidence in her. The look on her face must've shown this. He stood up and walked over to her, smiling.

He said, "Look, we're not gonna force ya into anything you don't want to do. But my grandmother told me somethin' I'll never forget. She said, 'Ya won't know what treasures you possess, unless you open the box first'."

"Wow. That...that's very wise."

"And she's not the only one."

Their eyes met, and she felt a bit of heat come to her cheeks. Everything around them seemed to freeze, but that only lasted a second. Nick walked back in, his breathing showing the effort it took to carry two heavy instruments. Without a word, he shoved the guitar at Tommy, who gave a soft grunt and a "damn" in response. He pushed a chair close to the piano and sat down.

Then, he asked, "So, princess, what do ya wanna try first?"

Theresa didn't know what to think or say. She hadn't really talked much about her personal music tastes. She'd never been put on the spot like this before. She couldn't see it, but she knew her face must've been red. She felt a subtle, grazing touch against her knuckles, and her eyes met Frankie's again in a brief, sideways glance. He was trying to give her another vote of confidence, without saying it openly this time. She wondered how many people in his youth had given him that same boost. Gyp was probably one, judging by how close they still were. She mentally sifted through all the artists she enjoyed, smiling when she finally decided upon on. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she took a sip of coffee.

Then, she said, "Well, I've always liked Johnny Cash. He's dark and brooding, but there's an underlying sweetness there."

She hadn't realized in until this point, but that quality described her brother perfectly. Going by the smile that flickered in the corner of his mouth, he understood that. He took a piece of stationary from a nearby notepad, and he slid it under his guitar strings.

He said, "So, let's try 'Walk The Line'. Sound good?"

"Yeah. I love that one."

"Well, a'right then."

Theresa, Nick, and Frankie gathered next to the piano, with the seventeen-year-old wedged between the singer and bassist. She watched Tommy pluck a couple of strings, producing the famous gallop sound. Nick joined in soon after. Then, before another crumb of self-doubt could enter her mind, her voice melded with theirs as they began the song:

 _"I keep a close watch on this heart of mine._

 _I keep my eyes wide open all the time._

 _I keep the ends out for the tie that binds._

 _Because you're mine, I walk the line._

 _I find it very, very easy to be true._

 _I find myself alone, when each day is through._

 _Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you._

 _Because you're mine, I walk the line."_

Theresa hadn't done something like this since eighth grade. She loved the way her voice blended with Frankie's, during the higher points of the song. Nick added some "bop-bops" to the background, and his already-present smile grew when he went solo on "And happiness I've known proves that it's right". They heard a noise somewhere behind them: Gyp, keeping time by tapping his leg. She couldn't see it, but she could sense that he was smiling, too. She almost had a giggle-fit, when Tommy made a puppy-dog face at her on the lyric "You give me cause for love, that I can't hide". As they finished the last verse, everybody was clapping each other on the back.

Nick said, "Like when we used to practice our harmonies, eh, Frankie?"

"You mean when you guys broke into that church", Theresa asked.

He narrowed his eyes, when the singer stifled a laugh. He reached around and smacked the back of his head.

"Ow! Come on, Nicky! It was funny."

"Yeah. Maybe for _you_. I got _arrested_."

Gyp walked over to them, a soft chuckle escaping him.

He lightly tapped Theresa's arm and said, "You did a great job there, darlin'."

"Thanks. And now, I'd like some payment for it."

"What do ya mean by dat?"

She turned around, her eyes meeting Tommy's.

She told him, "I mean exactly that. You asked me to sing, so I did. Now, it's _your_ turn."

This time, Frankie was the one to let go a laugh.

He asked her, "What song do ya want to hear, doll?"

"Uh...okay. Nicky mentioned the harmony practices you used to do. Maybe, you could pick something which plays into that."

"Like what?"

Shoot. He really wasn't letting this go. She felt her cheeks get warm again, and she glanced at the floor so he wouldn't notice that.

Finally, she said, "How about 'Under The Boardwalk'?"

She was happy, when they agreed with her choice. Tommy and Nick put down their instruments, and the guys fell into a half-circle formation. Theresa took Bob's spot at the piano, playing the accompaniment. Nick's smile split his face in half, probably because the song was a great show-off for his voice, in particular. Apparently, the guys didn't want to take a break, going straight into The Temptation's "My Girl". Though she remained at the keys, Theresa did join in. She was so focused on playing the right notes, that she didn't notice she was being watched. Frankie glanced sideways at her each time they said "my girl", mentally comparing her to another key woman in his life. Mary never asked to sing with him. She actually had a pretty voice, a bluesy sound most often showcased in church. Sometimes, their daughters could coax her into a lullaby. But anything beyond those situations seemed to have become taboo. He couldn't understand it. Marriage was supposed to mean you loved someone enough to share all your flaws and passions with them. Rejecting either of those concepts meant you also rejected part of your significant other. Conditional love wasn't love at all. Perhaps Mary didn't realize that, but it still hurt. Gyp was a gracious host, escorting them back out to their car, when it was time for them to leave.

After opening the front passenger door, he hugged Theresa and said, "I'm glad ya had a good time. Don' be a stranga' now, ya hear?"

"Of course, I'll come back", she replied, giving him a peck on the cheek.

As they left the property, Tommy asked from the back seat, "Didn't I tell ya not to worry, Lil' T?"

He reached over, giving a light smack to her shoulder. She giggled, a soft "Oh, hush" escaping her. She was the last one to be dropped off home. The sun was just starting to go down, when she and Frankie pulled into her driveway. She was smiling, as she turned to thank him. But then, she noticed something that made her smile instantly disappear. Frankie's earlier good mood was gone, replaced with a brooding, sad contemplation. She'd never seen that expression on his face before. Feeling both curious and nervous, Theresa reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. So...you never answered part of Gyp's question."

"Which part?"

"The part about what you were going to do for the future."

He was referring to the question of whether or not she wanted to be a musician one day.

After a minute's pause, she told him, "Well, I've been seriously thinking about becoming a teacher. I'd like to make an impact on people, just on a smaller scale then you guys."

"Good. That's great. Kids, especially little ones, need good role-models in their lives."

His voice cracked on that last word. Theresa rolled her eyes, as realization came over her. Now, his sudden change of mood made sense. He was thinking of his own children. She wasn't surprised. She knew how much being away from the girls weighed on him. And there was also Mary to consider. Her light touch on his arm became a tender squeeze, her thumb rubbing affectionately against him. His breathing changed, growing shallow as he tried to keep his composure. He mumbled the word "angel".

Knowing who he meant, Theresa said, "Francine _loves_ you. Trust me on that."

"And my other girls? My wife?"

" _All_ of them. You think they'd fill their house up with pictures of a man they hate?"

"How about ones of a man, who's actually there all the time?"

"Frankie..."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he placed his hand over hers. She'd never seen him like this before. She breathed in deep the cedar-and-cigarette smell that came from his shirt, her heart breaking a little bit more with each pass of his thumb over her knuckles.

She said, "A lot of things in this world don't make sense. Even the strongest possible love, that of a parent and child, has issues. But it's still the closest thing we have to magic...one notch in front of your singing."

That earned the response she'd hoped for: a slight chuff of laughter, and the faint windshield reflection of Frankie's dimpled smile.

He asked her, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better about stuff."

Maneuvering herself back into an upright position, she told him, "Well, it's not exactly rocket science. When someone I care about is in trouble, I try to be there for them. That's just who I am."

"Yeah, doll. That's who you are."

Their gazes remained locked, with only the occasional chirp of a cricket breaking up the silence. When Frankie moved his hand, the glow from a nearby lamp-post bounced off his wedding ring and into Theresa's eyes. She winced and ducked back, waving off his concern with a slightly-embarrassed giggle.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

She squirmed a little closer to the door, grabbing the handle and opening the door to leave.

But then, she heard Frankie say, "Hey, Rees..."

"What?"

A million different things were playing through his mind, if the look on his face was anything to go by. She wondered what some of them might be. His shoulders slumped the tiniest bit, and a soft sigh escaped him.

He told her simply, "Thanks."

She smiled back and said that it was no problem. Then, reflex entered in. Theresa leaned back over, stretching her neck out and kissing Frankie's cheek. It was the first time she'd ever done so, and his face betrayed his surprise. She froze, fully expecting him to chastise her in some way. But shockingly, that didn't happen. Instead, the corner of his mouth twitched in the tiniest of smiles. She did the same back, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. Just before leaving completely, though, she ducked down and gave him a final, grateful good-bye. For the sake of politeness, she waited on her front stoop for his taillights to disappear around the corner. When she shut the door behind her, Theresa felt like her knees were going to buckle. What the hell just happened?! Why did her heart feel like it was about to burst out of her chest?

Yukon ran over within seconds of her, entering the house. She smiled when she saw him, crouching down and giving him a big hug. She giggled at how he wouldn't stop wriggling around, knowing he wanted to lick her face. When he finally did get free, she noticed yet again how his eyes were as gentle and kind as those of the man, who'd given him to her. Theresa sighed, the heavy exhale causing a tingling sensation in her lips. It reminded her of what happens, whenever a person eats something spicy, bringing her right back to that moment in Frankie's car. She gave her beloved dog a scratch behind his ears, wondering why everything in her life had to be so damn complicated.

 _ **AN: I hope you like that little tender moment between Theresa & Frankie. I know I promised a mention of her 18th birthday in this chapter, but the plot got away from me. It will happen in the next one, though.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**AN: You wouldn't believe how chaotic my life has been up to this point. My old computer stopped working AGAIN, and we don't have the money right now to fix it. I have an iPhone, but I can't plug my USB drive into it to upload chapters for my stories. Trips to the library to upload will likely be few and far between. On top of that, we recently transferred apartments, and my mother has had surgery and other illnesses. I've dealt with some writer's block, too. I haven't abandoned my page her, and I'm sorry if I'm disappointing my readers. I appreciate your patience with me, and I hope you keep my mother and I in your prayers. Anyway, this chapter is about party-planning and an on-the-road visit. Hope you enjoy.**_

"So, what do ya wanna do?"

"Geez, Big T. Say it. Don't spray it."

She rolled her eyes at the slight laugh he made. Theresa and Tommy were having lunch at a local cafe, and they were discussing plans for her eighteenth birthday party.

Tommy took a a couple pulls from his beer and said, "Seriously, though...ya gotta give me some ideas here."

"Well, what did you do for _your_ eighteenth?"

He raised an eyebrow, a naughty smile teasing in the corner of his mouth. Theresa shook her head. She was probably better off not knowing.

Then, her brother said, "A'right. Let's start wit' the food. What kind do ya want?"

"Um...barbeque would be great. But the sweet variety. I don't want anyone to burn their mouth off."

"Got it."

He went onto say how Gyp had offered up his mansion as a location for the party, and that he'd planned a fireworks show as the finale for it.

"He wants to do fireworks?"

"Ain't dat what I just said?"

"But...But he barely knows me. Why is he doing this?"

"It's called bein' nice."

She shot back, "Yeah. You should try that some time, dude."

She squealed, giggling when he threw a French fry at her. Tommy then asked her how many people she wanted to invite. She told him there were a couple of friends from high-school she was thinking about, but that she still wanted to kept it small.

She said, "The less people we bring in, the less we have to worry about the press catching on."

"Smart move."

A few days later, Theresa was vacuuming her living room, when she was surprised by a knock on her door. Once again, Tommy was there, but he'd brought Bob along this time.

"Hey, Rees. How are you", the keyboardist asked as he hugged her.

"I'm fine, Bobby. I'm glad to see you."

"Dat's great", her brother chimed in, "So, ya ready to go?"

"Go where?"

He laughed and replied, "'Go where', she says. I thought we could take ya shoppin' and getcha some stuff for your birthday ahead of time."

" _Really_ ahead. This is April. My birthday's two months off."

"No kiddin' Sherlock. We were there for the last one, rememba'?"

"Seriously, Tommy. Why are you guys so adamant about taking me birthday shopping _now_?"

It was then that Theresa noticed something important. They weren't looking her in the eye. When Bob cast a nervous sideways glance, it hit her.

"You're going out on tour again, aren't you?"

Their silence was enough of an answer.

"And when did you plan to tell me, hmm? When I got the first post card?"

"Look, Rees. We're sorry. Okay", Bob said, "We didn't even know, until this morning when Crewe called with the new schedule. It's why we didn't warn you about this visit. We felt bad."

He put his hand on her shoulder, watching as her gaze drifted over to Tommy.

Popping a strip of gum into his mouth, the guitarist asked, "So, am I forgiven, or what?"

Taking a quick breath, she told him, "Here's a phrase not unfamiliar to you. You're on probation."

He smiled and said, "I'll take dat."

About forty minutes later, they'd crossed into New York and were pulling into the parking lot of a mall. Tommy handed Theresa a rather fat envelope, saying it was another early gift from Gyp. He chuckled under his breath, as he watched her eyes widen in shock.

"How...w-why..."

"It can pay to have friends in high places, Lil' T."

"That's not very comforting in this case."

" _Relax_. The bread's legit. He said he wanted ya to spoil yourself. Like the sayin' goes, don' look a gift horse in the mouth."

"I don't use people, Tommy."

Then, Bob chimed in: "We just wanted you to have a good time, Rees. We're going to be gone for a while, and we wanted to get in one last hurrah."

Theresa replied, "Hey, speaking of 'gone', and I know Nick's got a cold, but-"

"Frankie's got somethin' with his wife", Tommy interrupted, "She was supa'-pissed, when he told her about the tour. If dat dame makes _me_ nuts, I can only imagine what she does to _him_."

The seventeen-year-old recalled how Frankie had yelled over the phone, when she told him about Mary's beeline for the bottle after she'd babysat the girls. She hoped the issue her brother had mentioned didn't have anything to do with a fight. With all the chaos an upcoming tour usually brought, the last thing he needed right now was more of it. A nagging thought crossed her mind. She didn't want to sound like a child, but the question still had to be asked. She tapped Tommy's arm to get his attention.

"What?"

"You'll be home in time for my birthday, right?"

"Ya kiddin'", he said, putting an arm around her, "We wouldn't miss it."

He kissed her temple to emphasize his point. The trio parted ways soon after entering the mall, promising to meet up again at the food court in two hours. Theresa decided to go the more practical route first, picking up a couple new pairs of jeans, a denim skirt, and three blouses for the upcoming summer weather. She picked out more casual clothes from discount racks, wisely saving most of the cash for later. Then, feeling like the proverbial fish-out-of-water, she walked into a very upscale department store. Theresa immediately spotted a rack of playful-looking party dresses near the back of the store. A frilly emerald-green one brought out her eyes, but the material was too heavy for the summer. A silver one made her look wider, and it also made her appear shorter. She tried on two other dresses, in teal and butter-yellow, respectively, but there were flaws in each that she couldn't get past. Finally, tucked between two dresses that looked more like costumes for Vegas showgirls, a piece of salmon-colored fabric caught her eye. She felt a little trepidation, as she carried it back to the fitting room.

Everything changed, once she actually had the dress on her body. The color complimented her skin tone perfectly. The thin, black bow-belt highlighted her waist. And she knew no man would be able to overlook her chest, given the way the halter neckline held it up. A smile bloomed across her face. She felt sexy. She felt, dare she even think it...like Mary Valli. Her heart fluttered, her cheeks turning red as Frankie's image flashed across her mind. That was wrong. So wrong. She shook her head to clear the picture, ignoring the tiny nip of pain in her neck. She did a twirl, loving the way the skirt flowed out around her. That settled it. Theresa indulged her nerdy side, purchasing a couple of books, before heading to the food court to meet Tommy and Bob. She should've been surprised to see them, throwing french-fries at each other, but she wasn't. Boys will be boys, after all, no matter how old they were. Stifling a giggle, she cleared her throat to get their attention. Tommy froze mid-throw, the corner of his mouth curving upward in a smile. Bob smiled, too, but his looked a bit more embarrassed.

Cupping the back of his neck, he said, "Hey, Rees. We, uh…", and he glanced back at the small mess on their table, "we tried to wait for you, but—"

Letting the laugh out this time, she told him, "Relax. It's fine."

"Relaxin' is a foreign concept to him, princess. Trust me", Tommy said as he shoved another cluster of fries into his mouth.

Bob shot him a dirty look, but he didn't say anything more. On the drive back to her house, Theresa asked them to thank Gyp for his generosity, the next time they spoke to him. She claimed to be too nervous to thank him herself.

Tommy said, "What's to be nervous about, Lil' T? Gyp _adores_ ya."

"I know. I know he does, but…I-I guess I'm just not used to all this stuff yet."

"You think we are", asked Bob.

"Well, you _definitely_ are. You've been in this game since you were only slightly younger than me."

Shrugging, he mumbled, "Fair enough."

Theresa then looked at Tommy and said, "And _you've_ adapted to everything better than a lot of people expected."

He didn't give a response, beyond a soft chuffing noise. It was painful for her to say goodbye to them at her front door, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that they'd be back soon. She couldn't wait for the party. In the back of her mind, she sensed that her turning eighteen would mean more than what it did on paper for the average person. Unfortunately, something negative came before the positive. Theresa received an unexpected opportunity to visit the guys, while they were still on-tour. Crewe sent her backstage passes along with the tickets, and he promised not to tell the guys she was coming. She didn't know why, but she kept wanting to fidget with the small ruffle along the neckline of her blouse as she made the drive. Thank goodness, the crowd wasn't too bad yet when she got there. She waited with anticipation, hoping she wouldn't overdo it with her drink and need to use the bathroom either before, or worse, during the show. She'd brought along a wooden whistle, which her maternal grandfather had carved into the shape of a bird and given it to her for her tenth birthday, and she hoped its special noise would get the guys' attention near the end of the concert.

Her heart pounded, as she sang along with every number. If it looked like one of the guys was glancing in her direction, she made sure to lower her head. She didn't want them to see her yet.

Then, Frankie briefly stopped the show to say, "As a way to close things out tonight, we got a new song we want to share with you. Hope you like it."

It felt like he was talking to Theresa, even though he was looking at the other side of the room. She chalked that feeling up to her crush on the man. When was that going to go away? She nearly rolled her eyes over it, but she was torn from that feeling by the beginning of the song:

 _" **My eyes adored you.**_

 _ **Though I never laid a hand on you, my eyes adored you.**_

 _ **Like a million miles away from me, you couldn't see how I adored you.**_

 _ **So close. So close, and yet so far away.**_

 _ **Carried your books from school.**_

 _ **Make pretend you're married to me.**_

 _ **You were fifth grade, and I was sixth**_

 _ **When we came to be-"**_

Theresa took a tissue from her clutch bag and dabbed it at the corners of her eyes. While everyone else was thinking how sweet of a song it was, just as she did, she also felt something more. More than feeling like he was singing to her, she now also felt that he was reading her mind. The lyrics seemed like everything those fuzzy feelings wanted her to say to him, the feelings she again chastised herself for having. She took a deep breath, wanting erase the sadness from her face. She couldn't endure it anymore. It was the end of the concert, anyway. Perfect. Taking whistle from her bag, the corners of her mouth twitched upward as she blew it. That smile grew even more, when she saw the look on Bob's face. He was the one closest to her, so it made sense he heard the whistle first. He'd never heard that particular type of noise come out of a crowd before. What was it? His dark eyes scanned the first five rows, searching for the sound's source. Then, he heard it again, along a shouting of "Hey, genius". When he finally spotted Theresa, she playfully waved at him, and the new smile on his face matched hers.

Now, phase two of the plan was in motion. She made a "shush" gesture, before making a second one that told him not to signal the rest of the guys. He gave a quick nod of understanding, before returning his attention to finishing the song. Theresa showed her pass to one of the security guards, who led her backstage. It didn't take long for her to find the guys. When she opened the door to their shared dressing room, they weren't paying attention to much of anything. They were deep in conversation, Tommy leaning back in his chair with legs resting on and crossed atop the counter. He, Bob, and Frankie each had cigarettes in their hands, while Nick held a glass of what appeared to be scotch. Bob looked at her over Tommy's shoulder and smiled slightly, but he didn't say anything.

Using a sing-song voice, she said, "Knock, knock."

That got the rest of their attentions. The reactions were a mix of "What the hell"s and "Hey"s. As he'd done so many times before, Nick laughed as he lifted her up in a hug and spun her around a couple of times.

"A'right. A'right, Nicky. My turn now."

She giggled as Tommy folded her into his arms. Still in that embrace, she reached out and squeezed Bob's hand. She did the same to Frankie's shoulder, and she was secretly grateful that her brother's arm remained around her waist during that. She cleared her throat, ignoring the new heat in her cheeks, and she explained to them how she was able to be there. They were still talking about it later in their hotel suite, which Tommy politely informed her she'd be spending the night in.

"Ain't no way we'd letcha drive home in the dark", he said.

She wanted to tell him he focused too hard on the "baby" part of "baby sister", but she knew he'd ignore her. A short while later, they were all gathered around the television, watching a movie. Part-way into it, Theresa started feeling a little weird. She began messaging the space between her eyes, and she realized her vision was starting to get a little blurry.

"No. No. Not now", she thought.

It didn't take long for Frankie to notice what was going on, too. Reaching out and gently tapping the side of her arm, he asked if she was okay.

She replied, "It's fine. It's just a headache."

"That doesn't look like just a headache to me", he told her.

"Or me", Bob said, obviously paying more attention than everyone realized he was.

Nick asked, "What's goin' on?"

Theresa's unwillingness to answer prompted Tommy to give her a light shove and say, "Out wit it, Lil' T."

Sighing out the word "fine", she proceeded to tell them that she'd been getting migraines since she was a child.

Frankie said, "Yikes. My grandmotha used to get those. She used to put lemons-wait a second."

"What is it", she asked.

He stood up and told Nick, "Go downstairs to the kitchen. Ask 'em if they've got lemons."

"Got it."

After he left, Frankie said, "Damn. I forgot to ask him to bring back a knife."

"No need", Tommy said, taking a pocket knife from his wallet.

"What's this all about? What do you need this stuff for, Frankie", Theresa asked in a woozy tone of voice.

He replied, "As I was sayin', my grandma used to wrap lemon slices in a thin cloth and put them over her eyes, when she'd she lay down. She said the smell helped her migraines."

He went into the kitchen when Nick returned with the lemons, as well as some aspirin. Bob helped her to a different couch in darkened corner, fluffing a couple pillows and arranging them for her.

When Tommy came over with the aspirin as a glass of water, she told him, "I'm not a fragile flower, you know."

"Yeah. Yeah. Just take the pills."

She made a "tsk" noise, before doing what he asked. After Nick placed the lemon-filled cloth over her eyes, it didn't take long for her to doze off. Satisfied that she'd be okay, the other guys went back to watching the movie. Frankie, however, didn't follow right away. He watched the ghost-like touches her upper eyelashes gave her cheeks, as they twitched in sleep. The corners of her mouth twitched, saying whatever she was dreaming about must be good. This made him smile, too. Unable to help himself, he brushed his knuckle along her cheekbone, gently pushing aside a stray lock of her hair. His sigh over this was cut off by Bob, who'd glanced back over his shoulder and asked what his friend was doing. In that same moment, Frankie yanked his hand away from Theresa's face, grateful the shadows hid everything.

He walked back over to the guys, saying, "Nothin', Bobby. Nothin'."

And it had to stay that way.

 _ **AN: But will it stay that way? Hmm...(giggle) The next chapter will feature Theresa's eighteenth birthday party. There's a HUGE milestone in it.**_


End file.
